Littell's Living Age/Volume 148/Issue 1915/The Forest Glade

one dark morn I trod a forest glade, A sunbeam entered at the further end, And ran to meet me through the yielding shade — As one who in the distance sees a friend, And smiling, hurries to him; but mine eyes, Bewilder'd by the change from dark to bright, Received the greeting with a quick surprise At first, and then with tears of pure delight; For sad my thoughts had been, — the tempest's wrath Had gloom'd the night, and made the morrow gray; That heavenly guidance humble sorrow hath, Had turn'd my feet into that forest way, Just when His morning light came down the path, Among the lonely woods at early day.