Poems of Cheer

<h2><SPAN name="page79"></SPAN><span class="pagenum"></span>THROUGH DIM EYES</h2> <p class="poetry">Is it the world, or my eyes, that are sadder?<br/> I see not the grace that I used to see<br/> In the meadow-brook whose song was so glad, or<br/> In the boughs of the willow tree.<br/> The brook runs slower&mdash;its song seems lower<br/> And not the song that it sang of old;<br/> And the tree I admired looks weary and tired<br/> Of the changeless story of heat and cold.</p> <p class="poetry">When the sun goes up, and the stars go under,<br/> In that supreme hour of the breaking day,<br/> Is it my eyes, or the dawn, I wonder,<br/> That finds less of the gold, and more of the gray<br/> I see not the splendour, the tints so tender,<br/> The rose-hued glory I used to see;<br/> And I often borrow a vague half-sorrow<br/> That another morning has dawned for me.</p> <p class="poetry"><SPAN name="page80"></SPAN><span class="pagenum">p. 80</span>When the royal smile of that welcome comer<br/> Beams on the meadow and burns in the sky,<br/> Is it my eyes, or does the Summer<br/> Bring less of bloom than in days gone by?<br/> The beauty that thrilled me, the rapture that filled me,<br/> To an overflowing of happy tears,<br/> I pass unseeing, my sad eyes being<br/> Dimmed by the shadow of vanished years.</p> <p class="poetry">When the heart grows weary, all things seem dreary;<br/> When the burden grows heavy, the way seems long.<br/> Thank God for sending kind death as an ending,<br/> Like a grand Amen to a minor song.</p> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />