SONGS OF JOY

LILLIAN BARKER BEEDE.

When swept death's sable pinions
Across my love-lit skies,
My harp was hushed to silence,
While tear mists veiled my eyes.

At last, with hopeless fingers
That groped among its strings,
I woke the tones that only
To weeping memory clings.

In sorrow songs it whispered
Of anguish and despair;
Its low, sad notes went wailing
Up music's mystic stair.

A touch of careless fingers,
And then—a broken string,
Its voice—a dismal discord,
My harp—a useless thing.

A night of gloom closed round me,
Whose shadows were more dread
Than sorrow's twilight brought me
When love with death had fled.

Then in the darkness blossomed
A pure white angel thought,
Whose petals slow unfolding
A wondrous lesson taught.

And o'er the rusting harp-strings
Came breath of Love divine,
That tuned to heavenly sweetness
Those silenced songs of mine.

As joyous, eager fingers
Swept o'er the strings once more,
They thrilled with living music,
To them unknown before.

Then angel thoughts grew brighter,
And darkness shrank away,
Till Truth's white-petaled blossom
Turned sorrow's night to day.

Oh, joy complete and perfect!
Sings now this harp of mine,
As human discords vanish
In harmony divine.

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