Poems (Louisa Blake)/There is an Hour

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THERE IS AN HOUR.
There is an hour of deep distress,
 When friends are call'd to part,
A grief which words may not express,
 When heart is torn from heart.

There is an hour when none partakes
 Our grief, or lends us aid,
'Tis when the heart in secret breaks
 With hope too long delay'd.

There is an hour of agony
 When young affection's flower,
Nipt in the bud, must droop and die
 Blighted by death's stern power.

There is an hour of pure delight!
 Tis when, earth's ties all riven,
The spirit takes its upward flight,
 To join the bless'd in Heaven.

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