Tears Poem by Mary Anne Browne

What is that tear-that sorrowless tear-
That rests on the infant's cheek awhile,
'Till the fond parent coming near
Soon chases away the drop by her smile ?
'Tis the morning dew upon the flower,
Whose leaves awhile may the gem retain,
'Till the sun-beam at its rising hour
Will dry the lovely blossom again.

What is that beautiful crystal that flows
Down the yet unfurrow'd, tho' weeping cheek ;
The tear that is shed for another's woes,
That peace to the sorrowing heart can speak ? -
'Tis the dew that gently falls to earth
In the gloom of night and the twilight of eve,
That calls new buds and blossoms forth,
And refreshes the feverish earth beneath.

What are those drops that heavily roll
From the eye to which weeping hath long been denied,
That ease the grief of the woe-laden soul,
As if half its sorrow away it had sigh'd ? -
'Tis the shower that falls from the dark heavy cloud
That long had obscured the bright bosom of day,
And, reliev'd from its sadd'ning, dark'ning load,
The sun's smiling beam will soon chase it away.

What are those tears-those penitent tears
That dim the contrite sinner's eye,
That calm the guilty's rising fears,
And reach the throne of Mercy on high ?

They are the cooling torrents that dash,
When the thunder peal is rolling above,-
That quench the lightnings angry flash,
As tears the heavenly mercy move.

What is that gem that falls on the bed,
Where the dying saint is breathing his last,
Who brightness around him still can shed,
And a parting smile on that tear-drop cast ?-
'Tis the dewy balm of the summer's night,
As it weeps for the sun when 'tis sinking to rest,
Which throws a ray of parting light
To illumine that dew-drop's crystal breast.