Explore "Hope" by Georgia Douglas Johnson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Frail children of sorrow, dethroned by a hue, / The shadows are flecked by the rose sifting through, / The world has its motion, all things pass away, / No night is omnipotent, there must be day.
The oak tarries long in the depth of the seed, / But swift is the season of nettle and weed, / Abide yet awhile in the mellowing shade, / And rise with the hour for which you were made.
The cycle of seasons, the tidals of man / Revolve in the orb of an infinite plan.
We move to the rhythm of ages long done, / And each has his hour -- to dwell in the sun!