THE TWO SEASONS

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Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Mar 12, 1896

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 22, No. 11.

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THE TWO SEASONS.

BY CLYDE SCOTT CHASE.
With storm-dark visage frowns the sky O'er mountain, forest, hill, and plain; And sad our northwest coast appears, Her bosom wet with blinding tears, Forced by a cold and cheerless pain. The season of her grief is nigh.
No more upon her lips she feels Her lover's warm, life-giving kiss. Her heart is breaking; and a thread Once dark, wreathes frosty white her head, As, thinking of her days of bliss, Beneath her lonely grief she kneels.
She knows that he, in distant land, Is wooing now another mate; Knows that, upon her glossy hair, A maiden of the tropics fair Receives the signet of her fate— The pressure of his loving hand.
Her jealousy finds no relief, And day and night her tears spring forth. All mercy from her breast seems gone, And throbs her heart as pulsing stone, As o'er the regions of the north Is poured the fury of her grief.
But lo! as backward from the dead, One gentle, early springtime day, Her lover comes again to seek And bring the roses to her cheek, And from his burning eye a ray Falls warm upon her drooping head,
Quickly her face turns to the sky, While smiles of joy her lips enwreathe. Forgotten—all her grief and fear, Forgiven—his long absence drear. Warm leaps her blood again beneath The golden love light of his eye.

SIMILE.

Oft this poor soul with darkness strives, Oft wet these cheeks with bitter tears, When, in our lonely grief and pain, The Master bids us hope again; And on our hearts, corrupt and vile, We feel the sunlight of his smile. A light that fades sin's crimson stain, Tells us that all our fears are vain, And into hopeful springtime clears The rainy season of our lives.
Columbia City, Wash.