The Inquiry

            Tell me, ye winged winds,
                That rounds my pathway roar,
            Do ye know some spot
                Where mortals weep no more?
            Some lone and pleasant dell,
                Some valley in the west,
            Where, free from toil and pain,
                The weary soul may rest?
The loud wind dwindled to a whisper low,
And sighed for pity as it answered “No!”

            Tell me, thou mighty deep,
                Whose billows round me play,
            Know’st thou some favored spot,
                Some island far away,
            Where weary man may find
                The bliss for which he sighs,
            Where sorrow never lives,
                And friendship never dies?
The loud waves rolled in perpetual flow,
Stopped for a while, and sighed, to answer “No!”

            And thou, serenest moon,
                That with such holy face,
            Dost look upon the earth
                Asleep in night’s embrace,
            Tell me, in all thy round,
                Has thou not seen some spot,
            Where miserable man,
                Might find a happier lot.
Behind a cloud the moon withdrew in wo,
And a voice sweet, but sad, responded “No!”

            Tell me my secret soul,
                Oh! tell me, Hope and Faith,
            Is there no resting place
                From sorrow sin and death;
            Is there no happy spot
                Where mortals may be bless’d,
            Where grief may find a balm,
                And weariness a rest?
Faith, Hope, and love, best boons to mortals given,
Wav’d their bright wings, and whispered, “Yes in Heaven.”