Sometime, when all life's lessons have been learned,
⁠And sun and stars forevermore have set,
The things which our weak judgments here have spurned,
⁠The things o'er which we grieved with lashes wet,
Will flash before us, out of life's dark night,
⁠As stars shine most in deeper tints of blue;
And we shall see how all God's plans were right,
⁠And how what seemed reproof was love most true.

And we shall see, how while we frown and sigh,
⁠God's plans go on as best for you and me;
How, when we called, he heeded not our cry,
⁠Because his wisdom to the end could see.
And e'en as prudent parents disallow
⁠Too much of sweet to craving babyhood,
So God, perhaps, is keeping from us now
⁠Life's sweetest things because it seemeth good.

And if, sometimes, commingled with life's wine,
⁠We find the wormwood, and rebel and shrink,
Be sure a wiser hand than yours or mine
⁠Pours out this potion for our lips to drink.
And if some friend we love is lying low,
⁠Where human kisses cannot reach his face,
Oh, do not blame the loving Father so,
⁠But wear your sorrow with obedient grace!

And you shall shortly know that lengthened breath
⁠Is not the sweetest gift God sends his friend,
And that, sometimes, the sable pall of death
⁠Conceals the fairest boon his love can send.
If we could push ajar the gates of life,
⁠And stand within, and all God's workings see,
We could interpret all this doubt and strife,
⁠And for each mystery could find a key!

But not to-day. Then be content, poor heart!
⁠God's plans like lilies pure and white unfold.
We must not tear the close-shut leaves apart;
⁠Time will reveal the calyxes of gold.
And if, through patient toil, we reach the land
⁠Where tired feet, with sandals loose, may rest,
When we shall clearly know and understand,
⁠I think that we will say, "God knew the best!"

Ill canst thou bide in alien lands like these,
⁠⁠Whose home lies overseas
Among manorial halls, parks wide and fair,
⁠⁠Churches antique, or where
Long hedges flower in spring, and one may hark
To carollings from old England's lovely lark!

Ill canst thou bide where memories are so brief,
⁠⁠Thou that hast bathed thy leaf
Deep in the shadowy past, and known strange things
⁠⁠Of crumbled queens and kings;
Thou whose green kindred, in years half forgot,
Robed the gray battlements of proud Camelot!

Through all thy fibres' intricate expanse
⁠⁠Hast thou breathed sweet romance!
Ladies that long are dust thou hast beheld,
⁠⁠In dreamy days of eld;
Watched in broad castle-courts the chafed steed fret,
The glittering knight, the gaudy banneret!

And thou hast seen, on lordly ancient lawns,
⁠⁠The timorous dappled fawns;
Heard pensive pages with their suave lutes play
⁠⁠Some low Provençal lay;
Marked beauteous dames through arrased chambers glide,
With lazy, graceful staghounds at their side!

And thou hast gazed on splendid cavalcades
⁠⁠Of nobles, matrons, maids,
Winding from castle-gates on merry morns,
⁠⁠With golden peals of horns,
In velvet and brocades, in plumes and silk,
With falcons, and with palfreys white as milk!

Through convent casements thou hast peered, and there
⁠⁠Viewed the meek nun at prayer;
Seen through rich panes dyed purple, gold or rose,
⁠⁠Monks read old folios;
On abbey-walls heard wild laughs thrill thy vine
When the fat, tonsured priests quaffed ruby wine!

O ivy, having lived in times like these,
⁠⁠Here art thou ill at ease,
For thou art one with ages past away,
⁠⁠We are of yesterday!
Short retrospect, slight ancestry is ours;
But thy dark leaves clothe history's haughty towers!