VII
“Grief Dies Like Joy; the Tears Upon My Cheek”
Grief dies like joy; the tears upon my cheekWill disappear like dew. Dear God! I knowThy kindly Providence hath made it so,And thank thee for the law. I am too weakTo make a friend of Sorrow, or to wear,With that dark angel ever by my side(Though to thy heaven there be no better guide),A front of manly calm. Yet, for I hearHow woe hath cleansed, how grief can deify,So weak a thing it seems that grief should die,And love and friendship with it, I could pray,That if it might not gloom upon my brow,Nor weigh upon my arm as it doth now,No grief of mine should ever pass away.