 | The poems and prose writings of Sumner Lincoln Fairfield |  |
Yet thou, Tyrant of Air! hast chronicles
Of darker import, and the world is filled
With thine unpitying ministers of woe.
Beneath the rush of thy dark pinions nought
Lives, or life lingers, breathing at its birth
The death that soon becomes an ecstacy.
Wan yet not hoary, broken at the goal
Of young ambition, myriads writhe beneath
The agonies thou bring'st; and nevermore,
But in the tomb, seek solace of sweet sleep.
Earth's beauty, heaven's magnificence, the charms
Of zephyrs, verdure, azure, light, hills, streams,
And forests castled by eternal rocks,
Beheld long, fade upon the sated soul,
Exhaust by their sublimities, and shed
Their fragrance, music and romance on hearts
Inured and soiled—too weak to bear their bliss,
Too cold to feel their glories! And we roam
The paradise of all earth's pleasantries,
Amid the care, toil, phrenzy, want and strife
Of the protracted agonies of breath,
Feeding on raptures, that, fulfilled, are woes!
Of darker import, and the world is filled
With thine unpitying ministers of woe.
Beneath the rush of thy dark pinions nought
Lives, or life lingers, breathing at its birth
The death that soon becomes an ecstacy.
Wan yet not hoary, broken at the goal
Of young ambition, myriads writhe beneath
The agonies thou bring'st; and nevermore,
But in the tomb, seek solace of sweet sleep.
Earth's beauty, heaven's magnificence, the charms
Of zephyrs, verdure, azure, light, hills, streams,
And forests castled by eternal rocks,
Beheld long, fade upon the sated soul,
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Their fragrance, music and romance on hearts
Inured and soiled—too weak to bear their bliss,
Too cold to feel their glories! And we roam
The paradise of all earth's pleasantries,
Amid the care, toil, phrenzy, want and strife
Of the protracted agonies of breath,
Feeding on raptures, that, fulfilled, are woes!
| The poems and prose writings of Sumner Lincoln Fairfield | |