Song of Trust, A

Though the day delay its breaking,
        It will break ;
Though the soul be long in waking,
        It shall wake.
Slowly though the grey expanses
Pierce the sunlight's burning lances;
Through the glooms of wrong and sorrow
Melts the twilight of their morrow :
In the darkness, waiting, praying,
Weary at the long delaying,
While we moan in sickening fear
        Day is here!

Though the Spring delay Its coming,
        It shall come ;
Far away the bird-wings, humming,
        Beat her drum.
Down the crypts of dungeons chilly
Steals the sun to wake his Lily;
Violet feels him, and Arbutus
Parts the dry leaves to salute us;
Crocus laughs, and poor Narcissus
Flushes at the sun-god's kisses;
And while yet we mutter doubt,
        Spring leaps out.

Though the earth's divine renewal
        Seem so far,
Dimly through the storm-rack cruel
        Gleams her star!
Patient love that bears its burden
With that toil alone for guerdon;
Clinging faith that, though it quiver,
Central keeps the pole-star ever;
Work that wearies, nor yet flinches,
Build in centuries their slow inches ;
Till at last the sad earth knows
        Heaven's repose!