Is this be all

O God! if this indeed be all

That Life can show to me;

If on my aching brow may fall

No freshening dew from Thee;

If with no brighter light than this

The lamp of hope may glow,

And I may only dream of bliss,

And wake to weary woe;

If friendship's solace must decay,

When other joys are gone,

And love must keep so far away,

While I go wandering on,—

Wandering and toiling without gain,

The slave of others' will,

With constant care, and frequent pain,

Despised, forgotten still;

Grieving to look on vice and sin,

Yet powerless to quell

The silent current from within,

The outward torrent's swell

While all the good I would impart,

The feelings I would share,

Are driven backward to my heart,

And turned to wormwood there;

If clouds must EVER keep from sight

The glories of the Sun,

And I must suffer Winter's blight,

Ere Summer is begun;

If Life must be so full of care,

Then call me soon to thee;

Or give me strength enough to bear

My load of misery.