| Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916. | | | XXXIV. Compensation
From ‘A Life Drama’ | | By Alexander Smith (1830–1867) |
| | | THE FIERCE exulting worlds, the motes in rays, | |
| The churlish thistles, scented briers, | |
| The wind-swept blue-bells on the sunny braes, | |
| Down to the central fires, | |
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| Exist alike in Love. Love is a sea, | 5 |
| Filling all the abysses dim | |
| Of lornest space, in whose deeps regally | |
| Suns and their bright broods swim. | |
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| This mighty sea of Love, with wondrous tides, | |
| Is sternly just to sun and grain; | 10 |
| ’Tis laving at this moment Saturn’s sides,— | |
| ’Tis in my blood and brain. | |
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| All things have something more than barren use; | |
| There is a scent upon the brier, | |
| A tremulous splendour in the autumn dews, | 15 |
| Cold morns are fringed with fire. | |
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| The clodded earth goes up in sweet-breathed flowers; | |
| In music dies poor human speech, | |
| And into beauty blow those hearts of ours | |
| When Love is born in each … | 20 |
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| Daisies are white upon the churchyard sod, | |
| Sweet tears the clouds lean down and give. | |
| This world is very lovely. O my God, | |
| I thank Thee that I live! | | | | |
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