The Rift

Nature has wept to-day, her pent-up grief
In tears still trembles on the lily bell;
Remorseless rain-drops fleck its bending leaf,
And crystallize its yellow coronal.

And from the pansy 'neath the acacia tree
The purple velvet bloom is dashed away;
The skies are low'ring down so heavily,
Nature is sadder than a sigh to-day.

Something has hurt your heart and made you grieve,
The day has been too dark without the sun;
Something has proved too hard; but, oh! believe
Others have suffered just as you have done.

Some one has sobbed to-day, as you do now;
Those dry, unending sobs of tearless pain,
And felt the fever-heated pulsing brow,
That was not cooled by heaven's falling rain.

Some one has asked to-day and been denied,
And in response sent up the shiv'ring cry
That marks some human wish ungratified;
The reeds on which they leaned all broken lie.

And some have craved to-day a higher sphere,
And known the tortures of a pinioned will;
Have felt their efforts baffled, and the clear,
Hard voice of Fate, ring out against them still.

Some one has lost to-day the gilded prize
That years endeared unto Ambition's soul;
To-night he bears the hardest agonies
Of failure in the race to win the goal.

Some one has harder tasks to bear and do,
Has wilder trials than yours, which he contends;
Some one is farther off from Heaven than you,
Knows less of kindness, and has fewer friends.

Some one has wept to-day disconsolate,
In unison with earth has nursed his pain,
And felt the world as harsh and desolate
As the dark, mournful skies, and dripping rain.

Some one is sad to-night,—uncomforted,
The heart with all its little woes depressed;
A word, perhaps, she fain had left unsaid
Is burning still within that patient breast.

Some one is tired to-night, too tired to speak
Of all the hardships of the dark hours past;
Poor heart and hand have grown so slow and weak
In struggling for the well-won rest at last.

And you are tired to-night, too tired to know
The clouds have clustered in a crimson drift;
Too tired to see aloft God's signet bow,
And o'er its prison arch—an azure rift.
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