She was gentle, she was true, <br />And her tender eyes of blue <br />Seemed to mock the morning sunbeams <br />And the starlight of the night; <br />And her laughter seemed to trill <br />Like the ripple of the rill, <br />And there never was a trouble <br />That she didn't make all right. <br /> <br />What though rough had been my way, <br />And the bitter hours of day <br />Had depressed my coward spirit <br />Till it only saw the gloom, <br />She could lift me from the strife <br />And bring back the joy of life, <br />For her smiling presence brightened <br />And made radiant the room. <br /> <br />Oh, so simple were her ways, <br />Oh, so merry were the days <br />That we trod life's lane together <br />Hand in hand, like children gay; <br />But my troubles seem to be <br />Mountain high today to me <br />For there are no happy evenings <br />When we laugh them all away. <br /> <br />Now the sunbeams dance and smile, <br />But I'm looking all the while <br />For the soft blue eyes of Mary <br />Who has passed beyond the night; <br />But I bravely tread my way <br />For I know there'll come a day <br />When she'll laugh away my sorrows <br />And make all my burdens light.<br /><br />Edgar Albert Guest<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mary-37/
