I may not hear those sounds, my child,
They waken thoughts of other days;
And my sad breast with yearnings wild
Heaves with an agony untuned to softer lays.
Sing me a lighter, gladsome air,
And I will bid the smile appear-
Will chase away this gloomy care,
Which eats into my breast and makes a refuge there.
Ah! now the struggle is complete,
The surface shows no warfare now-
Deep in my heart the waters meet,
No eye may read the weary toil upon my brow.
My darling child-my faithful friend,
I still am blest-possessing thee-
And though the glass, which memories lend,
Is dimn’d, alas! with tears-there is a hope for me.
(Edward Henry Bickersteth)
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Based on Topics: Sadness Poems, Friendship Poems, Hope Poems, Smiling PoemsBased on Keywords: untuned, warfare, child-my