John Hill Hewitt - Oh, Do Not Chide Me When I Weep

1.
Oh, do not chide me when I weep,
These tears bring me relief;
The smile of joy let others keep,
mine be the joy of grief.
The sunbeam gilds the drooping flower;
And gives it life anew;
But brighter shine its tints each hour,
When bathed in evening dew.

2.
I can not tarry with the gay,
Their songs are dull to me;
The lights that round mirth’s chaplet play,
To me, burn gloomily.
The past, the past­­ the shadowy past­­
The scenes of perish’d years,
Loom up­­ joy’s shy is overcast,
And smiles give place to tears.

3.
Then, do not chide me if I weep,
The joys of life are fled;
I can not wake the lov’d ones that sleep,
In silence with the dead,
But, be thy heart forever light,
Let joy illume thine eyes;
Mine be the silent gloom of night,
A life of tears and sighs.