by Charlotte Brontë (1816 - 1855)

Life, believe, is not a dream
Language: English 
Life, believe, is not a dream,
    So dark as sages say; 
Oft a little morning rain
    Foretells a pleasant day: 
Sometimes there are clouds of gloom,
    But these are transient all; 
If the shower will make the roses bloom,
    Oh, why lament its fall? 
         Rapidly, merrily, 
    Life's sunny hours flit by, 
         Gratefully, cheerily, 
    Enjoy them as they fly.

What though death at times steps in,
    And calls our Best away? 
What though Sorrow seems to win,
    O'er hope a heavy sway? 
Yet Hope again elastic springs,
    Unconquered, though she fell, 
Still buoyant are her golden wings,
    Still strong to bear us well. 
         Manfuly, fearlessly, 
    The day of trial bear, 
         For gloriously, victoriously, 
    Can courage quell dispair!

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2007-12-04
Line count: 24
Word count: 116