After The Midnight Cometh Morn Poem by Albert Pike

A SONG, DEDICATED TO SENORITA CAROLINA CASSARD.


The Years come, and the Years go,
And the leaves of life keep falling,
Queridita!
And across the sunless river's flow,
With accents soft and whisper's low,
The friends long lost are calling,
Queridita!
While Autumn his red glory wears,
And clouds oppress the sky, like cares:—
But the old griefs die, and new joys are born,
And always after Midnight cometh Morn.

The Years wake, and the Years sleep,
And the Past is full of sorrow,
Queridita!
The thoughtless laughs and the thoughtful weeps,
And each the fruit of his follies reaps,
For To-day is the Fate of To-morrow,
Queridita!
But new loves tempt us to forget
The old, and old friends love us yet:—
So the old griefs die, and new joys are born,
And always after Midnight cometh Morn.

The Years laugh, and the Years sigh,
But the flowers for you are blowing,
Queridita!
As Girlhood's days go dancing by,
And Womanhood's blithe May is nigh,
With hopes and fancies glowing,
Queridita!
While Love his nets for you prepares,
And lurks to catch you unawares;—
And the old griefs die, and new joys are born,
And always after Midnight cometh Morn.

The Years live, and the Years die,
And all they touch they sadden,
Queridita!
But still the heart can Time defy,
Hope still with purple flush our sky,
And sober friendship gladden,
Queridita!
And well as we have loved before,
In Autumn we can love once more:—
For the old griefs die, and new joys are born,
And always after Midnight cometh Morn.
Querida raia!