The Daily Phoenix

Not Lost.

"I like Lawson
ran lost
A soul is lost
Venturing upon the sea of Sin.
The terrible whirlpool drew it in:
And sinking, unpitied and hopeless.
Was buried—never, never to rest.
Briefly—it is in ungodly thought.
That a grain of good should come to nought;
That a poor soul should cry out, tempest-tossed:
'Lost! lost!
Lost! lost!'
A heart is lost!
Floating upon the river of Love
In a fairy Boat of fancy wove:
The downward tide bore the trusting bark
Where Despair's bleak shores rose wild and dark.
Where breakers of Passion vent their wrath,
And the quicksands of Jealousy shift the path:
And the wretched heart cried from the barren coast—
Lost! lost!
Lost! lost!
Bright gems on the breast of Beauty shine
From the rayless caverns of the mine.
So, from the depths of the soul's despair,
A flower may grow for a saint to wear;
And Love's young heart by the tempest crost
May have Indian Summer after frost,
If we learn the Right, by the Wrong's sad cost
We are saved—not lost.