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,
O why lament its fall ?
Life's sunny hours flit by,
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.
The day of trial bear,
For gloriously, victoriously,
Can courage quell despair !
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Comments about this poem (Life by Charlotte Brontë )
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(march 12 1950)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
William Ernest Henley
(1849 - 1902)
(8 February 1911 – 6 October 1979)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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