I wept that all must die — "Yet Love," I cried, "doth live, and conquer death —" And Time passed by, And breathed on Love, and killed it with his breath Ere Death was nigh. More bitter far than all It was to know that Love could change and die — Hush! for the ages call "The Love of God lives through eternity, And conquers all!"
English poet and philanthropist (1825–1864)
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How can a mother's heart feel cold or weary Knowing her dearer self safe, sheltered, warm? How can she feel her road too dark or dreary, Who knows her treasure sheltered from the storm? How can she sin? Our hearts may be unheeding, Our God forgot, our holy saints defied; But can a mother hear her dead child pleading, And thrust those little angel hands aside?
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Shine, ye stars of heaven, On a world of pain! See old Time destroying All our hoarded gain; All our sweetest flowers, Every stately shrine, All our hard-earned glory, Every dream divine! Shine, ye stare of heaven, On the rolling years! See how Time, consoling, Dries the saddest tears, Bids the darkest storm-clouds Pass in gentle rain, While upspring in glory Flowers and dreams again!