Joy In The Morning

The night of affliction, with its long hours of sadness,
Will soon pass away to be remembered no more;
And the weeping will end in a morning of gladness;
For no sorrow is known on the evergreen shore.

In this world we shall have tribulation and sorrow;
'Tis enough for the subject to be as his king;
But if we are faithful, joy will come with the morrow,
And with the blood-washed a new song shall we sing.

Joseph Horatio Chant

Joseph Horatio Chant was a Canadian poet known for his religious and nature-inspired verse. He worked as a farmer and later became an ordained Methodist minister, which influenced his poetry. Chant's work gained modest recognition for its sincere exploration of faith and the Canadian landscape, contributing to the country's early literary heritage. He lived and wrote during the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

Joseph Horatio Chant

The Highest Goal

Joseph Horatio Chant, Simple Poetry

Influence

Joseph Horatio Chant, Simple Poetry

Dunbar

Joseph Horatio Chant, Simple Poetry

Perfect Work

Joseph Horatio Chant, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Gather The Wayside Flowers

'Tis well to have a goal in mind,
A life-aim, high and true;
Clear as the day, and well defined,
And ever kept in view.
But God has strewn along the way
Bright flowers of every hue.
Gather the brightest while you may,
For they were meant for you.

Heaven's joy transcends the joys of earth,
But if earth's joys be pure
They must have had a heavenly birth,
And bless while they endure;
So pluck the flower before it fades--
Drink from the purling stream;
Nor look for sorrow's darkening shades,
But for the morning gleam.

Life's burdens lose full half their weight
If gay our spirits be;
The rest beyond we antedate,
And serve, though ever free.
Our lamentations all will end,
Exchanged for smile and song,
And men will mark our u...

Joseph Horatio Chant

There's Joy, &C.

There's joy when the rosy morning floods
    The purple east with light,
When the zephyr sweeps from a thousand buds
    The pearly tears of night.
There's joy when the lark exulting springs
    To pour his matin lay,
From the blossomed thorn when the blackbird sings,
    And the merry month is May.

There's joy abroad when the wintry snow
    Melts as it ne'er had been,
When cowslips bud and violets blow,
    And leaves are fresh and green.
There's joy in the swallow's airy flight,
    In the cuckoo's blithesome cry,
When the floating clouds reflect the light
    Of evening's glowing sky.

There's joy in April's balmy showers
    'Mid gleam of sunshine shed,
When May calls forth a thousand flowers
    To deck the earth's green bed.

Susanna Moodie

He Shall Wipe Away Every Tear

Every tear that dims the eye,
Or bedews the careworn cheek,
Will our God, who reigns on high,
With a hand so kind and meek,
Wipe away, nor leave a trace
Of its stain on eye or face.

He alone life's ills can right.
Each His tender pity needs;
None are hidden from His sight;
"Every tear," the promise reads--
Every tear shall cease to flow,
Cease, likewise, the cause of woe.

O may I in Him confide
While I tread this vale of tears!
Walking closely by His side
He will dissipate my fears,
And when ends the weary strife,
May I share the tearless life!

Joseph Horatio Chant

The Lament Of The Disappointed.

"When will the grave fling her cold arms around me,
    And earth on her dark bosom pillow my head?
Sorrow and trouble and anguish, have found me,
    Oh that I slumbered in peace with the dead!

"The forests are budding, the fruit-trees in bloom,
    And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land;
But my soul is bowed down by the spirit of gloom,
    I no longer rejoice as the blossoms expand.

"And April is here with her rich varied skies,
    Where the sunbeams of hope with the tempest contend,
And the bright drops that flow from her deep azure eyes
    On the bosom of nature like diamonds descend.

"She scatters her jewels o'er forest and lea,
    And casts in earth's lap all the wealth of the year;
But the promise she brings wakes no transports in ...

Susanna Moodie

September

The hills are clad in purple and in gold,
The ripened maize is gathered in the shock,
The frost has kissed the nuts, their shells unfold,
And fallen leaves are floating on the lock.

The flowers their many-colored petals drop;
But seed-pods full and ripe they leave behind,
A prophecy of more abundant crop,
And proof that nature in decay is kind.

But still the dahlia blooms, and pansies, too;
The golden-rod still rears its yellow crest.
The sumach bobs are now of crimson hue,
The luscious grape has donned its purple vest.

The forest trees, so long arrayed in green,
Wear now a robe like Joseph's coat of old,
Brighter than that on eastern satrap seen,
Tho' clad was he in purple and fine gold.

The woodbine twined about the giant oak
Ble...

Joseph Horatio Chant

Bright Thoughts For A Dark Day

Will the shadows be lifted to-morrow? -
    Will the sunshine come ever again? -
Will the clouds, that are weeping in sorrow,
    Their glorious beauty regain?
Will the forest stand forth in its greenness? -
    The meadows smile sweet as before? -
And the sky, in its placid sereneness,
    Bend lovingly o'er us once more?

Will the birds sing again as we heard them,
    Ere the tempest their gentle notes hushed? -
Will the breeze float again in its freedom,
    Where lately its melody gushed?
Will the beautiful angel of sunset
    Drape the heavens in crimson and gold,
As the day-king serenely retireth,
    'Mid grandeur and glory untold?

Yea; the clouds will be lifted to-morrow,
    From valley, and hill-top, and plain;
And sunshine, and...

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)