Achsa White Sprague

Nov. 17, 1827 - Jul. 6, 1862


Suffer, Yet Be Strong

by Achsa White Sprague

Yes, suffer if thou must! but oh, be strong,
Although thy trials may be stern and long,
And filled with sorrows dark, that make the heart
Almost too sad to bear its bitter part.
What though thy path is Poverty's lone way
Uncheered by naught save hope's pale, dying ray?
Yet let thy heart be strong; press on in might; --
Bright days will come, if thou but doest right.

Has wan Disease her blight upon thee laid,
And caused the bright light from thine eye to fade?
Does health with taunting mien thy sad prayers spurn,
Still mocking with a vain hope of return?
Yet still hope on; despair not even then;
For time may bring thee back thy strength again;
And patient suffering through the weary hours,
May give thy soul far better thoughts and powers.

Have friends turned coldly from thy path aside, --
Those whom thou ever thought the true, the tried, --
And left thee in affliction's stern, cold hour,
To meet alone the dark storm-clouds that lower?
Let not thy heart be sad for friends so frail,
But nerve thyself to meet the passing gale;
Bow thy form meekly 'neath the chastening rod,
And learn to put thy trust in none but God.

Have those whose presence rendered bright thy way --
Too pure, too meek, in this cold world to stay --
Been called from earth, the chain of bondage riven?
Grieve not, but think thou'lt meet them all in Heaven;
And know that round thee still the loved ones come,
To render bright the darkness of thy home.
Yes, God's own love is round thee every hour;
Lean strong and fearless on His mighty power!

An early poem, composed during sickness.


The Poet And Other Poems.
Copyright 1864
Boston: William White And Co.,
158 Washington Street.