Page:Andrew Lockhart - At the Bars of Memory.pdf/12

 

A touch of rose and a glint of gold; A crystal star in the sea of pearl; What matters it if the world grows cold When the folds of night unfurl?

A friend or two for the living day; And love for the worldly things worth while; What matters it if the skies grow gray? There is no chill in a soul-born smile!

An hour for joy; a moment for tears; And golden beams to breast the gloom; What matters it if the surging years Are beating against an eternal tomb?

For life is real, and so much joy Pervades each hour of the living day, That sorrow is only the mild alloy Which strengthens the fabric of mortal clay!  

Oh, let me live a little while; A fleeting, changeful day; And teach me how to laugh and smile When skies grow cold and gray!

Oh, let me learn the lessons hard, The tasks of life's long school, And let me soothe the hands deep scarr'd Of those who broke some rule!

Oh, let me say a word of cheer To those who struggle by, And let me dry another's tear When sorrow's train is nigh!

Oh, let me ease some troubled heart With a kind word or two, And let me cool the ache and smart Of wrongs some others do!

Oh, let me bear the heavy cross Borne by some falt'ring man, And let his gain become my loss In life's fine sifting pan!

Oh, let me live a little while; A fleeting, changeful day; And may the heavens glow and smile When I am laid away!