p. 119 | PSALM OF CHEERFULNESS

Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Aug 14, 1856

PSALM OF CHEERFULNESS.

Oh! my brother, oh! my sister; Ye of fellow human kind, Ye whom wrong, or care, or sorrow, Brings a troubled, tortured mind, Tho' ye bow beneath the burden Pressing hard to bear you down, Listen to this holy lesson— Never murmur, never frown.

Wrong—the inner heart it woundeth, And 'tis cruel as the grave, But will bitterness or anger Soothe the smart its fury gave? No! my brother, no! my sister, They will ne'er one pang beguile, Better, then, it is to bear it, And rebuke it with a smile.

Care—the weary heart oppresseth, Often 'tis a galling load, But will fretting, or will frowning, Ease the burden, smooth the road? No! my brother, no! my sister, Never for a moment's wile, Better, better, then, be cheerful, And repel it with a smile.

Grief—oh, yes, the heart it wringeth— 'Tis a bitter thing to bear, But will sad or stern repining Ease the weary woes ye wear? No! my brother, no! my sister, Listen not to passion's wile, This is wisdom's holy lesson— Meet your sorrows with a smile.

Yes! howe'er it seemeth grievous, 'Tis a pure and potent charm, Meek and cheerful resignation Can the bitterest woes disarm; Yes! my brother, yes! my sister, Can the weariest cares beguile— Can the sorest sorrows lighten Never scowl, then—better smile.

For the smile upon your features Soon will learn to reach the heart And its deepest darkness lighten By its own sweet sunny art; Soon, aye, can the heart of ocean Be with grievous storm opprest, When no wild and angry motion Mars its bosom's glassy rest.

Listen, then, my brother, sister, And when aught shall weigh you down, Firmly give your weakness battle, And refuse to wear a frown! Glorious is that noble spirit, That uncrush'd in trouble's night, Still amidst the deepest darkness, Smileth and createth light. [N. Y. Dispatch.