Part 39 (2/2)

Sweet isle of fancy, far beyond The dark dim vales of human woe, My bark of love sails o'er the fond Blue waves that ever sh.o.r.eward flow.

My bark sails on the unknown sea Led by a large, pale star alone, That star wherein her face may be, Who to that better land hath gone.

O, never turn, brave white-sailed s.h.i.+p, Again towards that barren sh.o.r.e But bear me on the waves that dip And kiss yon isle forevermore.

Sweet day of rest when toil is past, When hearts can lay their burdens by And feel the peace G.o.d's angels cast In isleward flights from his fair sky!

Sweet isle of love where fancy dwells, And nature knows no pang of care, I hear the music of its bells Far floating on the evening air.

I hear the lonely shepherd's song Flow down the green and mossy vale, And westward all the calm night long The restless sea gulls sail.

I sometimes turn towards the stars With sudden shock of glad surprise, And half believe these island bars Are but the gates to Paradise.

AT KEY'S GRAVE.

I stood one summer, friend, beside The foam waves of a distant sea That muttered all the summer through A low sweet threnody.

A mournful song was ever on The lips that it were death to kiss, A song for those who died as died The brave at ancient Salamis.

A thousand graves lay in the trough Of that great ocean of the East, A thousand souls fled through its foam Towards the starlit land of peace.

And for each s.h.i.+p-wrecked soul that slept Beneath the dark inconstant waves The wind gave songs in memory Of men true-hearted, pure and brave.

But I have stood, sweet-singer, by Thy lonely, unmarked grave to-day, And all the songs thy memory got Came from the branches in their sway.

Ah, peace! ah, love! ah, friends.h.i.+p true!

No wreath rests here wove by your hands To mark the Poet's silent tomb.

As tombs are marked in other lands.

But in my noon-day dream there came From the fair bosom of the hills The voice of some sweet psalmist, thus-- ”'Tis so G.o.d wills, 'tis so G.o.d wills.”

THE ETERNAL LIFE.

I care not for the life that is, I think not of the things that are; I live, oh! soul of tenderness, Beneath an angel blessedness That draws its light from one small star.

I know not if the world be ill, I care not for its throb of pain, I live, oh heart, in fellows.h.i.+p With other hearts that rise and dip In the great sea that floods the main

From east to west with tides of love-- The ocean of Eternal Life, Whose waves flow ever free and warm From land of snow to land of palm And heal the naked wounds of strife.

I only know G.o.d's law is just, And that is all we need to know, I live down creeds of hate and spite, I build the n.o.bler creeds of right That beautify our beings so.

The days are brief that come apace, When morn wakes up and night sinks down, But far beyond the hills of jet The glory of the sweet sunset Lights all the steeples of the town

Within whose walls no sadness lives, No broken hearts, no simple strife, For that I live, oh soul of faith, For that whereof the Master saith ”Here find eternal love and life.”

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