Page:Moral Pieces in Prose and Verse.pdf/167

 The dark and heavy shades of woe; But short their power—the frowns they cast, Like April storms are quickly past. One day, perhaps, our skies they dim; One night, the couch with tears may swim; But morn dispels the sable shroud, The sun of mercy lights the cloud; An unseen power, with mild control, Restores the weak and weary soul, And makes the wounded spirit whole.