A Leaf from the Book of Life

Love reigns! All life is good! The Earth
Is decked in summer hue,
Song birds are caroling beneath
A canopy of blue;
But suddenly the clouds roll up,
And rush to meet the sun,
The sky in fury, lowers over,
The leaves are on the run,
The angry clouds blot out the day
And heavy drops fall fast;
A blinding flash, the thunders crash,
The North-wind blows his blast;
The happy birds, in utter rout,
Now flee with cries of fear,
The sweet day flies, before our eyes,
In a drizzle cold and drear.

And thus with life! One hour the heart
Is bubbling up with joy,
The next, unhappy thoughts expressed
In passion, may destroy
The wondrous peace which filled the soul.
The day is lost! The bliss
That but an hour ago could fill
The glass with one fond kiss!
Mean doubts and angry thoughts torment
The mind, charge it with grief;
The vandal Strife has torn from "The Book
Of Life,— a precious leaf.

How can it be that love so sweet,
Completing hopes and dreams,
Should prove so evanescent, and
As fleeting as light-gleams?
The soul beholds the wreck, and choked,
Despairs, in dumb dismay;
In anguish far too deep for speech
In silence, is at bay.

Look up! What's this? There's naught amiss!
The thunder clouds roll by,
The flowers nod, and tell their love
Beneath the smiling sky.
The song-birds twitter in the trees,
The clouds with sighs now soft
And blown by warm and gentle winds
Form fairer skies aloft.

Then eyes of love look back with faith
Into eyes of love again,
To beg forgiveness for the pain
That tore two souls in twain;
For those who love will mend heartaches
By tender wiles, perhaps
Endearing terms, caresses fond,
That seem more sweet for lapse.

The Maker guards "The Book of Life—
With its leaves of peace and joy;
Love mends the rent, when vandal Strife
Breaks in and would destroy;
Then as of yore, the sun comes up,
The birds chirp as before,
For all the world is full of love
It's good to live once more.