Yet after all we cry, Shall God devise
No way to bring His banish’d ones again?
Shall there not some aspersion of sweet rain
Fall on those faded faces, those hard eyes?
Shall not a sudden tenderness surprise
Their hearts with its relief, as babies drain
With their soft lips away the mother’s pain,
As in a great grief sometimes madness dies?
I hear no certain news of their estate-
Ofttimes is utter silence; then comes much
Of love’s soft hand and of her silver key
Obscurely prophesying some wondrous touch.
But ever in the distance a ‘Too late!’
Dies as among dark hills a moaning sea.
(Archbishop William Alexander)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Faces Poems, Cry Poems, Pain Poems, Mothers Poems, Silence PoemsBased on Keywords: ofttimes, prophesying, obscurely, aspersion