Poem

J1 iiHi 0 sharp and many are the thorns of life, From youth till age their pains with us abide. 0 deep the wounds oft made from years o r strife; With smiles we fain this aching pain would hide. How many souls have felt the thorn of doubt, Until pale fear has made of us a slave! Then faded hopes but meet our gaze throughout, And tears fall fast on dead ambition's grave How oft a weariness of life is born! Dark sorrow and despair our faith o'ercome; Our hearts are pierced until, all bleeding, torn, The weary senses with the pain grow numb. And yet, some day the soul will struggle free, As does the sun from out a great storm-cloud; 'Tis then the meaning of life's thorns we'll see, When with immortal wisdom we're endowed. Hope. \ W^k