Classic Poem

Why art thou sad, dear Lady? whose sweet ways
Do cleanse and gladden all the paths thou treadest;
Making rebellious spirits calm, and praise
To spring before thee, wheresoe'er thou threadest
Thy gracious path, 'mid mortal sins and pain;
Till at thy presence hearts take hope again.

Why art thou sad to-night, withdrawn, apart?
Save from one only, whom thy love approveth:
Save from one only, in whose sentient heart
Vibrates each pain or joy, thy soul that moveth.
Draw near, sweet Penitent; confess thy fears:
'Twere surely sin to mar such grace with tears!