A little while with tides of dark and light
⁠The moon shall fill;
Warm autumn's gold be changed to shrouding white
⁠And winter's chill.
A little while shall tender human flowers
⁠In beauty blow;
And ceaselessly through shade and sunny hours
⁠Death's harvest grow.
A little while shall tranquil planets speed
⁠Round central flame;
New empires spring and pass, new names succeed
⁠And lapse from fame.
A little while shall cold star-tapers burn
⁠Through time's brief night;
Then shall my soul's beloved One return
⁠With dayspring bright.

How oft in golden dreams I see Him stand,
⁠I list his voice,
As winning largess from his lifted hand
⁠The poor rejoice;
But waking bears that vision dear away,
⁠My better part,
And leaves me to this pale and empty day,
⁠This longing heart.
I cannot see Thee, but I love Thee. Oh,
⁠Thine eyes that read
The deepest secrets of the spirit know
⁠'Tis love indeed!
A little while; but, ah! how long it seems!
⁠My Jesus, come.
Surpass the rapture of my sweetest dreams.
⁠And take me home!

Good-bye! God love you, since no sweeter trust
⁠My heart can give you, or my lips can say.
Or grief can utter, since but He alone
⁠Shall stand within the place I yield to-day.

Good-bye! for now and ever through the years.
⁠Till we meet out before the golden gate;
You have to fight to win the narrow way,
⁠I will serve with you while I stand and wait.

Whatever haunting care of life
⁠About my spirit cleaves,
If I but walk abroad awhile
⁠Among the breathing leaves.
It seems as it were left behind
⁠Beneath the cottage eaves.
I do not ask for singing birds,
⁠Or floods of golden light;
For if I do but ope the door
⁠On a dull autumn night,
The shining rain-drops on the grass
⁠Will set my spirit right.

The peaches redden on the wall.
⁠Hiding in hollow cells of green,
Where plaited leaves hang thick about,
⁠And scarce permit them to be seen;
And so, in truth, good deeds should be
⁠Concealed in sweet humility.

The peaches redden on the wall.
⁠Though night's dark curtain drips with dew;
The white stars show themselves, and shine
⁠Through moulded cloud and hovering blue.
And, oh! to feel, past fruit and tree
⁠The lights of home shine forth for me.

How lonely seemed her life now she had lost
⁠The love that gave to life its grace and worth!
How cold the clouded skies, how low and dull
⁠What erst she deemed most beautiful on earth!

Hers was a feeble mind that could not rise
⁠Out of herself to things of higher power;
Busy with trifles, while an aching want
⁠Deepened and widened every listless hour.

And friends were kind, but, careless, passed her by;
⁠One of themselves, and happy as things go.
Talked with her, helped her not, nor soothed
⁠The leaden sorrow that they did not know.

None gave her work to pass the weary days,
⁠Nor sought she any, lived in dull content,
Yet thankful if a passing sunbeam strayed.
⁠For any joy that God in pity sent.

Then came the Lord to that deserted door
⁠That all men passed with hurrying heedless feet.
And she rose up, and opening found at last
⁠All she had lost within His presence sweet.