No day shall return that has faded, The dead come not back from the tomb; The vale of each life must be shaded, That we may see best from the gloom. The height of the homes of our glory, All radiant with splendors of light; That we may read clearly life's story -- "The dark is the dawn of the bright." I Often Wonder Why 'Tis So Some find work where some find rest, And so the weary world goes on: I sometimes wonder which is best; The answer comes when life is gone. Some eyes sleep when some eyes wake, And so the dreary night-hours go; Some hearts beat where some hearts break; I often wonder why 'tis so. Some wills faint where some wills fight, Some love the tent, and some the field; I often wonder who are right -- The ones who strive, or those who yield? Some hands fold where other hands Are lifted bravely in the strife; And so thro' ages and thro' lands Move on the two extremes of life. Some feet halt where some feet tread, In tireless march, a thorny way; Some struggle on where some have fled; Some seek when others shun the fray. Some swords rust where others clash, Some fall back where some move on; Some flags furl where others flash Until the battle has been won. Some sleep on while others keep The vigils of the true and brave: They will not rest till roses creep Around their name above a grave. A Blessing Be you near, or be you far, Let my blessing, like a star, Shine upon you everywhere! And in each lone evening hour, When the twilight folds the flower, I will fold thy name in prayer. In the dark and in the day, To my heart you know the way, Sorrow's pale hand keeps the key; In your sorrow or your sin You may always enter in; I will keep a place for thee. If God's blessing pass away From your spirit; if you stray From his presence, do not wait. Come to my heart, for I keep For the hearts that wail and weep, Ever opened wide -- a gate. In your joys to others go, When your feet walk ways of woe Only then come back to me; I will give you tear for tear, And our tears shall more endear Thee to me and me to thee. For I make my heart the home Of all hearts in grief that come Seeking refuge and a rest. Do not fear me, for you know, Be your footsteps e'er so low, I know yours, of all, the best. Once you came; and you brought sin; Did not my hand lead you in -- Into God's heart, thro' my own? Did not my voice speak a word You, for years, had never heard -- Mystic word in Mercy's tone? And a grace fell on your brow, And I heard your murmured vow, When I whispered: "Go in peace." "Go in peace, and sin no more," Did you not touch Mercy's shore, Did not sin's wild tempest cease? Go! then: thou art good and pure! If thou e'er shouldst fall, be sure, Back to me thy footsteps trace! In my heart for year and year, Be thou far away or near, I shall keep for thee a place.