THE GHOST-FLOWEE, AND CHILD. 389 



God ! God, the world is wrong ! 

 It does not know when men are strong. 

 "When its Prophets come there're slighted 

 Black Birds on their heads alighted, 

 Scare them with a shadowy woe 

 It should not let its birds do so ! 



be ye not despairing yet, 



Thou child of sorrows and regret, 



For God will send a golden hope, 



From out his gladder radiance, 



E're he shall call thee, calmly hence ! 



Be not all hopeless when the world 

 Is sadder still than your despair ! 

 Wait till the evil wings are furled, 

 And joy and gladness rule the air ! 



Darkness is not all forlorn 

 Light sleeps in it till the morn, 

 God is light and light is Love, 



Go poor souls and live and love ! 

 O be patient till the light 

 Cometh to thee from the Dawn, 

 God yet lives for the forlorn ! 



Thou art unhappy yet of men 

 Thou art not the only bowed, 

 The poor are rotting vermin-clad 



Life decaying in its shroud ! 

 Ah why shouldst thou, then, still be sad, 

 Up and work ! redeem the sod, 

 Labor is the way to God ! 



God is motion, stars and light ! 

 God is all that e're was bright ! 

 God is all that e're was fairy ! 

 God is all that e're was airy ! 



