Poem of the day

by Charlotte Brontë (1816-1855)

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?
⁠⁠               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.
⁠⁠⁠               Manfully, fearlessly,
⁠         The day of trial bear,
⁠⁠⁠               For gloriously, victoriously,
⁠         Can courage quell despair!

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