Florence Earle Coates,
Lyrics of Life — The House of Pain
(1909)
“ Yet in the Prison House of Pain things full of beauty blow,— Like Christmas-roses, which attain Perfection 'mid the snow,— Love, entering, in his mild warmth the darkest shadows melt, And often, where the hush is deep, the waft of wings is felt. Ah, me! the Prison House of Pain!—what lessons there are bought!— Lessons of a sublimer strain Than any elsewhere taught,— Amid its loneliness and gloom, grave meanings grow more clear, For to no earthly dwelling-place seems God so strangely near! ”
