Strife, that racked my spirit,
Without hope or rest,
Left the blooming flower,
Patience, on my breast.

Suffering, that I dreaded,
Ignorant of her charms,
Laid the fair child, Pity,
Smiling, in my arms.

So I count my treasures,
Stored in days long past—­
And I thank the givers,
Whom I know at last!

VERSE:  SHINING STARS

Shine, ye stars of heaven,
On a world of pain! 
See old Time destroying
All our hoarded gain;
All our sweetest flowers,
Every stately shrine,
All our hard-earned glory,
Every dream divine!

Shine, ye stars of heaven,
On the rolling years! 
See how Time, consoling,
Dries the saddest tears,
Bids the darkest storm-clouds
Pass in gentle rain;
While upspring in glory,
Flowers and dreams again!

Shine, ye stars of heaven,
On a world of fear! 
See how Time, avenging,
Bringeth judgment here;
Weaving ill-won honours
To a fiery crown;
Bidding hard hearts perish;
Casting proud hearts down.

Shine, ye stars of heaven,
On the hours’ slow flight! 
See how Time, rewarding,
Gilds good deeds with light;
Pays with kingly measure;
Brings earth’s dearest prize;
Or, crowned with rays diviner,
Bids the end arise!

VERSE:  WAITING

“Wherefore dwell so sad and lonely,
By the desolate sea-shore,
With the melancholy surges
Beating at your cottage door?

“You shall dwell beside the castle
Shadowed by our ancient trees;
And your life shall pass on gently,
Cared for, and in rest and ease.”

“Lady, one who loved me dearly
Sailed for distant lands away;
And I wait here his returning
Hopefully from day to day.

“To my door I bring my spinning,
Watching every ship I see;
Waiting, hoping, till the sunset
Fades into the western sea.

“After sunset, at my casement,
Still I place a signal light;
He will see its well-known shining
Should his ship return at night.

“Lady, see your infant smiling,
With its flaxen curling hair—­
I remember when your mother
Was a baby just as fair.

“I was watching then, and hoping: 
Years have brought great change to all;
To my neighbours in their cottage,
To you nobles at the hall.

“Not to me—­for I am waiting,
And the years have fled so fast,
I must look at you to tell me
That a weary time has past!

“When I hear a footstep coming
On the shingle—­years have fled—­
Yet amid a thousand others,
I shall know his quick, light tread.

“When I hear (to-night it may be)
Some one pausing at my door,
I shall know the gay soft accents,
Heard and welcomed oft before!

“So each day I am more hopeful,
He may come before the night: 
Every sunset I feel surer
He must come ere morning light.