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Hope
By Abram Joseph Ryan
Thine eyes are dim:
A mist hath gathered there;
Around their rim
Float many clouds of care,
And there is sorrow every -- everywhere.
But there is God,
Every -- everywhere;
Beneath His rod
Kneel thou adown in prayer.
For grief is God's own kiss
Upon a soul.
Look up! the sun of bliss
Will shine where storm-clouds roll.
Yes, weeper, weep!
'Twill not be evermore;
I know the darkest deep
Hath e'en the brightest shore.
So tired! so tired!
A cry of half despair;
Look! at your side --
And see Who standeth there!
Your Father! Hush!
A heart beats in His breast;
Now rise and rush
Into His arms -- and rest.
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