The Blind Man

By Hannah Flagg Gould

T is darkness, darkness; dreary, starless night;
Nature a blank, and day that shows no sun;
Man, earth and seas and heavens shut out from sight—
Such is thy portion, blind and hapless one!

Hapless! a smile upon thy lip will dwell,
While in thy sunken eye no light appears!
That cold and rayless orb will never tell
If first its film would burst with joy or tears.

Yet light is in thy soul—that fire divine,
That shone on Horeb’s mount, illumines thee:
Thou walk’st in safety, for the Guide is thine,
Whom Israel followed through the parting sea.

Though thou must grope for pillars hands have raised,
Like him who erst Philistia’s thousands slew,
The temple where, by angels, God is praised,
Thy father’s house, is ever kept in view.

Thou know’st how soon these earthly walls must fail;
How frail and vain the things of time and sense;
Thy steady faith looks onward through the veil,
Where life eternal and its joys commence.

Thy head is white—thy foot is at the grave;
And nature’s hasty work is nearly done;
But He will bear thee safe o’er Jordan’s wave,
Whose peace is with thee, blind, but happy one!

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