TRUST by Lucy Larcom

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Aug 20, 1894

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 20, No. 41.

TRUST.

By Lucy Larcom

What kept the moss a-growing Through January's snowing? It knew—oh! never doubt it!— The blasted tree without it Would bleaker seem and older To summer's new beholder.

What was the water saying Beneath the ice roof playing, Whereon the sunshine listened, While underneath it glistened?— "O kingly son, arisen To loose me from my prison, I murmur not from grieving— I sing in thee believing!"

What brought the peach buds swelling From out of their birchen dwelling?— The song of bluebirds won them; Fresh music poured upon them, In bloom is overflowing, The blush and perfume showing That life is richer, better, Joy's never-pardoned debtor.

O loving, soul-fresh faces, Moss of deserted places! O voices of the chosen, Through deadliest cold unfrozen! O lives with beauty brimming, Glad in the heaven's near hymning! Ye know the hidden glory; Who else may tell that story?

Grow, sing, and bloom undaunted; A world so shadow-haunted Needs all your bursting splendor, Soft lights, and murmurs tender. The human want is pressing; O'ershadow it with blessing, Your triumph sure believing, Till hearts shall hush their grieving. —Lucy Larcom.