Part 9 (2/2)

Behind me riseth to the skies What I have been: in front, but dim, What I shall be all shrouded lies, All shrouded by the curtain dark Of mists which from the river rise.

Above, the clouds hide from mine eyes The hosts of heaven.

Strait, strait and barren is the vale!

For here no tender primrose blows, Nor daisy with its simple charm, Nor from the yews which round me close Comes song of thrush--but dismal shriek Of deathbird, scattering as it goes The stillness deep--and pales my cheek With awe unspeakable.

Strait, strait and lonely is the vale!

Only from far falls on my ear The murmur of the world I loved, But death's dark torrent roareth near.

Now 'neath my feet the path I tread Crumbling gives way, and filled with dread Into the waves below I hear The fragments falling.

Strait, strait and hopeless is the vale!

Nor can I evermore regain The days of happiness and health Which once I knew, days free from pain, Nor move a foot from where I stand, And backward eyes of longing strain A moment--ere I leave the land And brave those waters.

Yet strait tho' be the vale and dim, And though the skies are dark and drear, And though the mountains everywhere Rise steep and rugged round me here To bar me out from life! there lives One Star which s.h.i.+neth bright and clear From out the sky and comfort gives To soothe my sadness.

A Prayer.

O my G.o.d, my Friend, my Father, Thou who knowest all the secrets Of man's heart and all his failings-- O forgive me for forgetting All thy loving care towards me, Evil child and disobedient, And for setting up an idol All of earth within thy temple.

And receive from hands unworthy As a sacrifice accepted On Thine altar, Lord a bruised Contrite heart that ever suffers Daily pangs of disappointment Even than death itself more bitter.

Take the one love of a lifetime, All the hopeless love and pa.s.sion Dedicated to another Who with me Thy place had taken, As if they to Thee were rendered.

Count it, Father, as sufficient Chastening, that I must abandon All my hopes my love of winning, All I have of kin and country, All the comforts health bestoweth, And across the sea go seeking All alone a grave 'mid strangers.

O, my G.o.d--for I have suffered, Grant at last Thy peace, Thy blessing.

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