University of Virginia Library

I.

I knew that Death was stern and strong,
That sceptred hand and helmed head,
The fear'd on earth, the famed in song,
Must sink beneath his silent tread;
That Poet's brain, and Warrior's heart,
And Beauty's most resplendent form,
Glory and pride, and strength, must part,
To grace the banquet of the worm.
But tell not me—it cannot be,
That Death, my love, may alter thee.

II.

Oh! hast thou ne'er in fancy view'd
The shadows dark of days to come—
Their toils and cares, a hideous brood,
Strife with the world's fierce multitude,—
Pain, sickness, agony, distress,
When yearns the heart in weariness
Tow'rd absent friends, the dead, the lost,
And those by fortune tempest-toss'd
To some far-distant home?
Though many an hour of love and mirth
May cheer man's spirit here on earth,
And friends may meet in moments gay,
And the dancing heart keep holiday;
Yet oh! far oftener must it bear
Its solitary load of care,
Aching in anguish deep and lone,
For many a loved and loving one,—
I'll not believe that at his birth
To man such sympathies are given,
But that their joys, so few on earth,
Might be renew'd in Heaven.
Then tell not me—it cannot be,
That Death, my love, may alter thee.

III.

And hast thou ne'er, at fall of Even,
When moans the breeze in sounds of woe,
And stars begin to wink in Heaven,
And earth in twilight melts below,
And, in the stillness of the hour,
The voice of waters solemn seems—
Felt some unknown mysterious Power
Breathe o'er thee, from the woods and streams,
Steeping thy soul in tearful dreams;
Till wandering thoughts spring up on high,
As the soul would roam through the starry sky,
And the realms of the sainted dead explore,
Whom the living eye shall view no more,
In the crystal light of their calm retreat,
The look of Earth's affection bearing,
And still their radiant faces wearing
The smile we used to think so sweet?
Thou must have felt that witching hour,
Its deep, and calm, and silent power;
Thou must have felt that tearful gushing
From the heart's fresh and lonely springs,
And the charmed soul through the blue sky rushing
On the Spirit of Twilight's wings.
Then rise, each sense to rapture hushing,
Visions of unforgotten things,
And they who loved, whose spirits love us,
Float in the deep blue sky above us,
In dreamlike wanderings.
On every passing breeze float by
Voices we loved in infancy;—
They tell of some untroubled land,
Where souls that love repose together,
And many a white and radiant hand
With gentlest motion waves us thither.
And oh! 'tis sweet to rove on high
With that celestial company,
And feel, while yet we breathe beneath,
That hearts remain unchanged in Death.

IV.

In sleep I dream of happy days,
That smile beyond the tomb;
And fond imagination roves
Through wondrous valleys, fields, and groves,
Where gentle brooks that gush between,
And skies eternally serene,
Make one perpetual bloom.
And ever, in those dreams divine,
Thy gentle spirit stands by mine;
Thy voice of music wanders by,
Thy form is floating in my view;
And still thy soft and earnest eye
Smiles on me, as 'tis wont to do.
Then tell not me—it cannot be,
That Death, my love, can alter thee.

I had a wondrous dream;—methought I stood
Within the threshold of an ancient house,
Which I had loved in childhood;—forms well known,
And old, familiar voices were around me,
And happy thoughts, and half-forgotten feelings,
And tearful recollections rose within me,
Bathing each sense in ecstasy. I felt
A gushing at the fountains of my spirit;
My heart dissolved—I was a child again.
Yet as I gazed on each remember'd face,
A freezing pang shot o'er me—a chill sense,
Of longing separation, and I knew
That woe was deeply blended with my dream.

I gazed upon the forms around me. One
(A matron) had methought been beautiful
In other days, but now upon her cheek
Sickness had set his seal, and wasting years
And sorrow, worst of all;—yet still her mien
Held its original sweetness. Piety,
And gentleness and charity, and faith,
Shone there, and from her soften'd eyes beam'd forth,
Serenity which was not of the earth.
And all around that venerable form
Beautiful creatures floated—cheeks of bloom,
And eyes of watery light, on her alone
Fixed with such fond and beaming earnestness,
That I might know their owners had no thought
Beyond that gentle lady's happiness.

My dream was darkened; in that ancient house
There was a deathlike silence;—one alone
Of all those young and lovely forms remain'd,
And she was traversing the silent hall,
With wild and hurried footsteps. Very pale
She look'd, and in her tremulous voice was sorrow
Mingled with dread—and yet she shed no tears.
There seem'd a settled spirit at her heart,
Triumphant o'er calamity,—a firm
And holy strength; yet ever and anon
Her lips, compressed convulsively, betrayed
The struggle of her soul with agony.
Methought one told me that o'er that old house
Disease had spread his pinions, and that she,
That gentle mother, and her youngest child,
Were fading in Death's shadowy arms. Alone
That maid, the ruling image of my dream,
Tended their feverish beds, and sleeplessly
Was comforting the agonies of each.
Oh! 'twas most piteous to see that pale form
Gliding from room to room, and when with faint
And tremulous accent either sufferer ask'd
How fared the other, forcing painful smiles,
And striving with deceitful hope to win
Each soul from half its suffering. And then
Methought the tramp of horses, and the whirl
Of chariot-wheels kept sounding in my ear;
And, one by one, familiar forms pass'd by me,
In sad succession, in that house of woe.
They were my friends in childhood, and I sighed
To see how thus with pallid looks they came
To weep upon that lady's sepulchre.

My dream pass'd darkly on. Methought I stood
With her, the ruling image of the Vision, Beneath the waning twilight—[OMITTED]

Again my dream grew dark. We stood by night,
(I and that maiden) near the old abode,
But a new woe was on us. Doubt, and fear,
And thoughts of death, and undefined forebodings,
Hung heavy on our hearts. Then on a sudden
She had departed, and her wild farewell
Was ringing like a death-knell in my ear,
Which my heart echoed back.—I felt, that hour,
As she were gone for ever. My brain reel'd
Giddily, and dim shadows of dark thought
Throng'd through its bursting cells tumultuously.
I look'd up to the Heavens;—their face was dark
With gathering tempest, and the silent moon,
In pale and melancholy loveliness,
Peep'd dimly through the clouds, whose shadowy forms
The winds, in rapid and tumultuous flight,
Hurl'd o'er Night's blue and starry firmament.[OMITTED]

My dream was brightened. Sounds of love and joy,
And hymeneal songs, and rustic mirth,
Mix'd with music of the village bells,
Broke gaily on my ear. From that old house
There pass'd a merry wedding rout;—the bride
Was that young maiden whom I late beheld
Pining in hopeless sickness; holy love
And chaste connubial raptures, filled her eyes,
Smiling through silent tears. And then I saw
That maid, the ruling image of my dream,
And she was leaning on a young man's arm
Whom I knew not; but in their eyes I read
That each was to the other all in all.

My Vision changed its aspect. Youth's bright hues
Had pass'd from all the faces which I lov'd,
And the calm pulses of maturity
Throughout my being throbb'd. I stood begirt
By beaming faces of time-honour'd friends,
Whose children played around us,—happy creatures,
With cheeks and eyes of brightness,—some in youth's
More ripen'd bloom, maidens with downcast looks,
And boys of gallant bearing;—peace and joy
Dwelt with us; the bright soul of other days
Stole, like an exquisite dream, into our hearts,
And childhood's scenes lay round us. And, methought,
There leaned a radiant form upon my bosom,
Dearer than all, from whose mild eyes I drank
Intoxicating bliss; all pleasant thoughts
Rose up within me, and each giddy sense
Reel'd in its own deep raptures; till, at last,
E'en with the beating of my heart, I woke.