Since happier grown! I took and read
The neat-writ lines. She, void of guile,
Too late repenting, blush'd, and said,
I must not think about the style.

2

'Day after day, until to-day,
Imaged the others gone before,
The same dull task, the weary way,
The weakness pardon'd o'er and o'er,

'The thwarted thirst, too faintly felt,
For joy's well-nigh forgotten life,
The restless heart, which, when I knelt,
Made of my worship barren strife.

'Ah, whence to-day's so sweet release,
This clearance light of all my care,
This conscience free, this fertile peace,
These softly folded wings of prayer,

'This calm and more than conquering love,
With which nought evil dares to cope,
This joy that lifts no glance above,
For faith too sure, too sweet for hope?

'O, happy time, too happy change,
It will not live, though fondly nurst!
Full soon the sun will seem as strange