Classic Poem

Take courage—'tis a little cloud,
That soon will pass away,
The hearts that now with grief are bowed,
May only grieve to-day.
To-morrow, up the azure height
The sun may dart his beam,
And then one joyous burst of light,
O'er mount and vale shall stream.

When thwarted plans and baffled hopes,
Become our only store,
And the crush'd spirit barely copes,
With ills unknown before,
Despond not—yet the tide will turn,
The gales propitious play;
Take courage—'tis a little cloud,
That soon will pass away.

When doubts eclipse the ray of joy,
And fears their shadows cast,
When rugged seems the way to bliss,
And foes come crowding fast,
Faint not—a mightier power than thine,
Is pledged those foes to slay,
Light shall at last for thee be sown,
The cloud shall pass away.

But shades there not the vale of Death,
A cloud of sombre fold?
Yes—but the eagle-eye of Faith,
Detects the streak of gold:
Those radiant tints shall wider spread,
And form one burnish'd sea,
Till thine at last, triumphant Saint,
Is Immortality.