Volume I Part 93 (2/2)

Before I understood this place Appointed for my second race, Or taught my soul to fancy aught But a white, celestial thought; When yet I had not walked above A mile or two from my first Love, And looking back, at that short s.p.a.ce, Could see a glimpse of His bright face; When on some gilded cloud or flower My gazing soul would dwell an hour, And in those weaker glories spy Some shadows of eternity; Before I taught my tongue to wound My Conscience with a sinful sound, Or had the black art to dispense A several sin to every sense; But felt through all this fleshly dress Bright shoots of everlastingness.

O how I long to travel back, And tread again that ancient track!

That I might once more reach that plain Where first I left my glorious train; From whence the enlightened spirit sees That shady City of Palm-trees.

But ah! my soul with too much stay Is drunk, and staggers in the way!

Some men a forward motion love, But I by backward steps would move; And, when this dust falls to the urn, In that state I came, return.

Henry Vaughan [1622-1695]

A SUPERSCRIPTION

Look in my face; my name is Might-have-been; I am also called No-more, Too-late, Farewell; Unto thine ear I hold the dead-sea sh.e.l.l Cast up thy Life's foam-fretted feet between; Unto thine eyes the gla.s.s where that is seen Which had Life's form and Love's, but by my spell Is now a shaken shadow intolerable, Of ultimate things unuttered the frail screen.

Mark me, how still I am! But should there dart One moment through thy soul the soft surprise Of that winged Peace which lulls the breath of sighs,-- Then shalt thou see me smile, and turn apart Thy visage to mine ambush at thy heart Sleepless with cold commemorative eyes.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti [1828-1882]

THE CHILD IN THE GARDEN

When to the garden of untroubled thought I came of late, and saw the open door, And wished again to enter, and explore The sweet, wild ways with stainless bloom inwrought, And bowers of innocence with beauty fraught, It seemed some purer voice must speak before I dared to tread that garden loved of yore, That Eden lost unknown and found unsought.

Then just within the gate I saw a child,-- A stranger-child, yet to my heart most dear,-- Who held his hands to me and softly smiled With eyes that knew no shade of sin or fear; ”Come in,” he said, ”and play awhile with me; I am the little child you used to be.”

Henry Van d.y.k.e [1852-1933]

CASTLES IN THE AIR

My thoughts by night are often filled With visions false as fair: For in the Past alone I build My castles in the air.

I dwell not now on what may be; Night shadows o'er the scene; But still my fancy wanders free Through that which might have been.

Thomas Love Peac.o.c.k [1785-1866]

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