Ann Eliza Bleecker

“ If higher joys she can't attain,
She'd rather chuse to mourn
For bliss superior she was made,
Or for extreme despair:
If pain awaits her past the dead
Why should she triumph here?
Tho' Reason points at good supreme,
Yet Grace must lead us thence;
Must wake us from this pleasing dream,
The idle joys of Sense.
Surely I wish the blackest night
Of Nature to remain,
'Till Christ arise with healing light,
Then welcome day again.
This work was published before January 1, 1928, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago. ”

“ Not such the calmness there,
But waves of guilt tumultuous roll
'Midst billows of despair. ”

“ Come Grief, and sing a solemn dirge
Beneath this midnight shade;
From central darkness now emerge,
And tread the lonely glade. ”