Then mourn not death; 'tis but a stair Built with divinest art, Up which the deathless footsteps climb Of loved ones who depart. LIGHT ON THE CLOUD. It is dark on only the downward side; And often, when it traileth low, THERE's never an always cloudless There'll come a time, near the setting sky, There's never a vale so fair, But over it sometimes shadows lie In a chill and songless air. But never a cloud o'erhung the day, ray Forming a sunshine crown. sun, When the joys of life seem few, A rift will break in the evening dim, And the golden light stream through. And the soul a glorious bridge will make Out of the golden bars, And all its priceless treasures take Where shine the eternal stars. |