My Comforter

Well hast thou spoken, and yet, not taught
A feeling strange or new;
Thou hast but roused a latent thought
A cloud-closed beam of sunshine, brought
To gleam in open view

Deep down, concealed within my soul
That light lies hid from men;
Yet, glows unquenched-though shadows roll
Its gentle ray cannot control
About the sullen den

Was I not vexed, in these gloomy ways
To walk alone so long?
Around me, wretches uttering praise
Or howling o'er their hopeless days
And each with Frenzy's tongue;-

A brotherhood of misery
Their smiles as sad as sighs;
Whose madness daily maddened me
Distorting into agony
The bliss before my eyes!

So stood I, in Heaven's glorious sun
And in the glare of Hell;
My spirit drank a mingled tone
Of seraph's song, and demon's moan;
What my soul bore, my soul alone
Within itself may tell!

Like a soft air, above a sea
Tossed by the tempest's stir;
A thaw-wind, melting quietly
The snow-drift, on some wintry lea;
No: what sweet thing resembles thee
My thoughtful Comforter?

And yet a little longer speak
Calm this resentful mood;
And while the savage heart grows meek
For other token do not seek
But let the tear upon my cheek
Evince my gratitude!