JOY AND SORROW.
Reading edition
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BY RICHARD COE.
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“I am happy, O, how happy!”
Said a little child, one day,
At his play,
With his ball of twine and kite,
That to his supreme delight,
To the skies
Did arise,
Far from human sight.
Came a sudden gust and squall,
Gone was kite and twine and all;
Tears were in his eyes!
“I am happy, O, how happy!”
Said a maiden young and fair;
On the air,
Scarce the words had fallen, when,
Lo! her lover, down the glen,
Now she sees,
On his knees,
Like to other men,
Vowing love to fairer maid;
Words she overheard he said
That her soul did freeze!
“I am happy, O, how happy!”
Said a gay and laughing bride;
By her side
Stood the husband of her choice,
Who did in his strength rejoice:
Months have fled;
O’er the dead
Now she lifts her wailing voice!
From her lonely pillow now
Who may lift her pallid brow?
Who may raise her head?
“I am happy, O, how happy!”
Said a mother fair and mild;
On her child
Gazing with her love-lit eyes—
The sweet cherub from the skies,
That in love,
Like a dove,
Strayed from Paradise:
Lo! the angel Death, one day,
Took her darling one away,
Beckoning her above!
“I am happy, O, how happy!”
Said a Christian on his bed,
With his head
Turned toward the setting sun:
“Soon my labor will be done,
Then will I,
With a sigh,
To the mighty One,
Who is e’er the Christian’s friend
All my anxious cares commend,
And will calmly die!”