By Mary E. Tucker
Oh, how can I live in a torture so wild,
And yet always be dreaming of bliss?
Why not learn Fate has doomed me to be sorrow’s child,
And in meekness the heavy rod kiss?
I have lived for long months in a bright land of dreams,
Dawning roseate as th’ opening of day;
But alas! the bright tints were but lightning gleams,
Flashing wrath, and then fading away.
The bliss of the soul I have constantly sought,
But alas! I have sought it in vain;
On earth its base semblance is rended and bought,
And I never will seek it again.
How I long for some spot in the solitude deep,
All alone I could dwell there for years;
My only companion, Repentance, and weep
Living fountains of sorrowful tears.
I feel we are drifting too surely apart,
And sadly I think of the pain,
For my loss, which will gnaw the proud core of your heart,
As alone you sail over life’s main.
Oh, why do I sorrow? I know there is rest
For the weary, in mansions above;
And I long to go home to the land of the blest,
And drink deep of God’s pardoning love.