But Thou wilt heal that broken heart,
Which, like the plants that throw
Their fragrance from the wounded part,
Breathes sweetness out of woe.
"When joy no longer soothes or cheers,
And e'en the hope that threw
A moment's sparkle o'er our tears
Is dimmed and vanished, too,
Oh, who would bear life's stormy doom,
Did not Thy wing of Love
Come, brightly wafting through the gloom
Our Peace-branch from above?
Then sorrow, touched by Thee, grows bright
With more than rapture's ray
_As darkness shows us worlds of light_
_We never saw by day._"
"None, said Mrs. Adair, "but those who have had the sky of their
earthly affections shrouded in darkness, can fully understand the
closing words of this consolatory hymn. Need I now answer your
question, 'Whence comes the light?' There is an inner world Mrs.
Endicott--a world full of light, and joy, and consolation--a world
whose sky is never darkened, whose sun is never hidden by clouds.
When we turn from all in this life that we vainly trusted, and lift
our eyes upward towards the sky, bending over our sad spirits, an
unexpected light breaks in upon us, and we see a new firmament,
glittering with myriads of stairs, whose light is fed from that
inner world where the sun shines for ever undimmed.
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