Part 11 (2/2)

Just to thrill with youthful fire, Kindling heart and brain, Just to know the old desire Lofty heights to gain;

Just to hold the simple faith Into which I grew, When my G.o.d was not a wraith, And all men were true!

Shadowed sails, clouded sails, Life hath made me know That you leave no jewelled trails, Proudly though you go;

Drops that floods of diamonds seem Are but dazzling spray, Fleeting as a happy dream, Swift to fade away.

Distant sails, waning sails, Waft me to some sh.o.r.e Where corroding care prevails Never, nevermore!

Where the flotsam of the deep Finds its wanderings cease, And the s.h.i.+pwrecked sink to sleep On the strand of peace.

A MAY MONODY

Beside my opened window pane, Each morning in this month of May A blackbird sings in dulcet strain Two liquid notes, which seem to say ”Come again! Come again!”

Alike in suns.h.i.+ne and in rain, Now loud and clear, now soft and low, He warbles forth the same refrain, Which haunts me with its hint of woe,-- ”Come again! Come again!”

What bird, whose absence gives him pain, Doth he thus tenderly recall?

What longed-for joy would he regain By those two words which rise and fall,-- ”Come again! Come again!”

Sometimes, when I too long have lain And listened to his plaintive air, An impulse I cannot restrain Hath moved me too to breathe that prayer,-- ”Come again! Come again!”

O vanished youth, when faith was plain, When hopes were high, and manhood's years Showed dazzling summits to attain; O days, ere eyes grew dim with tears,-- ”Come again! Come again!”

O friends, whose memory leaves no stain, O dearly loved and early lost!

Do you your love for me retain Beyond the silent sea you crossed?

”Come again! Come again!”

Alas! sweet bird, all life moves on; The seed becomes the ripened grain, And what is past is gone, is gone!

Cease calling, therefore,--'tis in vain--, ”Come again! Come again!”

MY LOST FRIENDS

One by one they have slipped from Earth, And vanished into the depths of s.p.a.ce, And I, beside my lonely hearth, Find none to take their place.

Never a word of fond farewell Fell from their lips ere they were gone; Never a hint since then to tell If after night came dawn!

Latest of all to thus depart, Still is thy hand-clasp warm in mine; Wilt thou not tell me where thou art?

Canst thou impart no sign?

Wild are the winds above thy grave; Cold is the form I loved so well; But what to thee are storms that rave, Or the snow that last night fell?

Out in the awful void of night, Numberless suns and planets roll; Has one of all those isles of light Received thy homeless soul?

Mute is the sky as an empty tomb; Trackless the path, and all unknown; What means this journey through its gloom, Which each must make alone?

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