Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/Life's Changes
Life's Changes.
How strange is life,—how changeful time!
One day the smiles of love may cheer
The heart, like joyous nuptial chime,
Which falls upon the listening ear
Sweet and symphonious, and the soul
Is filled with dulcet thoughts of joy.
Oh, would life's little round aye roll
On thus, with nought e'er to alloy
Our mutual bliss; but time to see,
As it sped on its swift winged way,
Our hearts in closer unity
Of love and friendship joined each day.
But, no, alas! time onward flies,
And brings the ever-changeful years,
Which nip earth's truest, tenderest ties
From us, thus turning joys to sighs
Of saddening grief, and love-lit eyes
To weeping sorrows bitter tears.
So on the rolling tide of life,
Man—frail, weak bark—must ever ride,
'Midst swelling seas of storm and strife;
But let us still in Him confide,
Who sends for every storm a calm,
For every wound a healing balm.
Then to omniscient care resign
The trying troubles of each day,
And ne'er at His just will repine,
Who "takes but what He gave, away."
O God! how hard for us to say,
"Thy Will, O Lord, be done!" alway.
With intermingled joys and tears
Haste on the short and fleeting years
Of life, in which loved friends depart;
Yet memory holds them dear to heart.
'Tis sweet, when youthful years have fled,
And time has tinged our locks with grey,
To muse on happy scenes which made
Us light and gay in life's young day.
Or when with years maturer crowned,
And on our minds is left th' impress
Of every change in life's strange round,
We love each varied scene to trace.
Oft when alone, in some calm hour,
When hushed and stilled is outward life,
Keen memory with reflecting power
Brings visions sad, yet sweet, and rife
With musings strange on quiet dead
On hearts that once did warm glow
With life and love, but now have fled,
Ne'er to return again, ah, no!
One day the smiles of love may cheer
The heart, like joyous nuptial chime,
Which falls upon the listening ear
Sweet and symphonious, and the soul
Is filled with dulcet thoughts of joy.
Oh, would life's little round aye roll
On thus, with nought e'er to alloy
Our mutual bliss; but time to see,
As it sped on its swift winged way,
Our hearts in closer unity
Of love and friendship joined each day.
But, no, alas! time onward flies,
And brings the ever-changeful years,
Which nip earth's truest, tenderest ties
From us, thus turning joys to sighs
Of saddening grief, and love-lit eyes
To weeping sorrows bitter tears.
So on the rolling tide of life,
Man—frail, weak bark—must ever ride,
'Midst swelling seas of storm and strife;
But let us still in Him confide,
Who sends for every storm a calm,
For every wound a healing balm.
Then to omniscient care resign
The trying troubles of each day,
And ne'er at His just will repine,
Who "takes but what He gave, away."
O God! how hard for us to say,
"Thy Will, O Lord, be done!" alway.
With intermingled joys and tears
Haste on the short and fleeting years
Of life, in which loved friends depart;
Yet memory holds them dear to heart.
'Tis sweet, when youthful years have fled,
And time has tinged our locks with grey,
To muse on happy scenes which made
Us light and gay in life's young day.
Or when with years maturer crowned,
And on our minds is left th' impress
Of every change in life's strange round,
We love each varied scene to trace.
Oft when alone, in some calm hour,
When hushed and stilled is outward life,
Keen memory with reflecting power
Brings visions sad, yet sweet, and rife
With musings strange on quiet dead
On hearts that once did warm glow
With life and love, but now have fled,
Ne'er to return again, ah, no!