Classic Poem

The heart that is sinking in sorrow
May mourn, but need never despair;
The night may be dark, but to-morrow
The sky may be smiling and fair.
As golden day follows grey morning,
As summer heat follows the rain,
As shadow makes light more adorning,
So pleasure is heighten'd by pain.

Our life is a state of progression,
Though weary and rough be the way;
And ere we get good in possession,
Hard labour's the price we must pay.
Then pause not though dark and alarming
The sky in the distance may lour;
Press on;—there be regions more charming,
The sunshine comes after the shower.

Then list not your woe-begone lover,
And heed not your woe-boding friend;
The sooner your sorrows are over,
The sooner your pleasures will end.
When joy thus with sorrow is blended,
Oh, why should life's cup ever cloy;
Or why should we wish our woes ended,
When Sorrow's the sister of Joy!