In springtime came a joyous, sunlit day;
I would go out, but too long lingered o'er
The poet's page, till clouds had changed to gray
The glad, bright world. With disappointment sore
My heart was filled, my books gave joy no more,
'Twas gone like flowers before the breath of north;
When lo! another gleam of sunshine drew me forth.
Now, as I wandered on, the sunset filled,
Little by little, all the vault of gray
With richest splendors, and my being thrilled
With ecstasy; I mourned no more the day.
The very clouds that stole my joy away
Took on celestial hues, like foes turned friends,
Restoring gladly fourfold more to make amends.
So, when life's disappointments cast a pall
On human hopes, and earth-born joys decay,
If we look up, some gleam of Truth will fall
Across our sight, and lead from self away
To find that God hath heavenly joy for aye
Prepared for us, more beautiful and bright
Than all wherein we erstwhile hoped to find delight.
