- I shall not pass this way again—
- Although it bordered be with flowers,
- Although I rest in fragrant bowers,
- And hear the singing
- Of song-birds winging
- To highest heaven their gladsome flight;
- Though moons are full and stars are bright,
- And winds and waves are softly sighing,
- While leafy trees make low replying;
- Though voices clear in joyous strain
- Repeat a jubilant refrain;
- Though rising suns their radiance throw
- On summer’s green and winter’s snow,
- In such rare splendor that my heart
- Would ache from scenes like these to part;
- Though beauties heighten,
- And life-lights brighten,
- And joys proceed from every pain,—
- I shall not pass this way again.
- Then let me pluck the flowers that blow,
- And let me listen as I go
- To music rare
- That fills the air;
- And let hereafter
- Songs and laughter
- Fill every pause along the way;
- And to my spirit let me say:
- “O soul, be happy; soon ’tis trod,
- The path made thus for thee by God.
- Be happy, thou, and bless His name
- By whom such marvellous beauty came.”
- And let no chance by me be lost
- To kindness show at any cost.
- I shall not pass this way again.
- Then let me now relieve some pain,
- Remove some barrier from the road,
- Or brighten someone’s heavy load;
- A helping hand to this one lend,
- Then turn some other to befriend.
- O God, forgive
- That I now live
- As if I might, sometime, return
- To bless the weary ones that yearn
- For help and comfort every day,—
- For there be such along the way.
- O God, forgive that I have seen
- The beauty only, have not been
- Awake to sorrow such as this;
- That I have drunk the cup of bliss
- Remembering not that those there be
- Who drink the dregs of misery.
- I love the beauty of the scene,
- Would roam again o’er fields so green;
- But since I may not, let me spend
- My strength for others to the end,—
- For those who tread on rock and stone,
- And bear their burdens all alone,
- Who loiter not in leafy bowers,
- Nor hear the birds nor pluck the flowers.
- A larger kindness give to me,
- A deeper love and sympathy;
- Then, O, one day
- May someone say—
- Remembering a lessened pain—
- “Would she could pass this way again.”
- -Eva Rose York
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