 | Lays of Leisure Hours |  |
29
THE HAUNTS OF SORROW.
At the shadowy hour of eventide,
When Nature doffs her glaring hues,
How sweet for hearts long tired, long tried,
Apart and undisturbed to muse.
When Nature doffs her glaring hues,
How sweet for hearts long tired, long tried,
Apart and undisturbed to muse.
Shades after shades come deepening on,
Sound after sound dies soft away,
Till glare is gone—till noise is none,
And past and perished is the day.
Sound after sound dies soft away,
Till glare is gone—till noise is none,
And past and perished is the day.
Then how this heart's wild woe subsides,
Yet far more freely gush its springs,
While halcyon Peace broods o'er its tides
With comforting and covering wings.
Yet far more freely gush its springs,
While halcyon Peace broods o'er its tides
With comforting and covering wings.
30
Then from myself I mount, I rise,
And try sweet paths untried before;
And fly as Expectation flies,
To find some new untrodden shore.
And try sweet paths untried before;
And fly as Expectation flies,
To find some new untrodden shore.
Each thought seems furnished with a wing,
I leave this weary doom behind,
And every dark and dismal thing,
Which long hath pained my fevered mind.
I leave this weary doom behind,
And every dark and dismal thing,
Which long hath pained my fevered mind.
I wander through all haunts beloved,
Where holy sorrow soothes to stay;
Not all in truth from Earth removed,
Yet purified from grosser clay.
Where holy sorrow soothes to stay;
Not all in truth from Earth removed,
Yet purified from grosser clay.
Not all from Sorrow's yoke set free,
But won unto her tenderest mood
A grief, yet dearer far than glee,
With something soft and sweet imbued.
But won unto her tenderest mood
A grief, yet dearer far than glee,
With something soft and sweet imbued.
31
The Past and Present reconciled
Might seem to be in that sweet hour,
When all is solemn, calm, and mild—
When Memory and the Moon have power.
Might seem to be in that sweet hour,
When all is solemn, calm, and mild—
When Memory and the Moon have power.
Say, Sorrow—where thy chief abode?
Lovest thou to haunt the deep sea shore,
Or mourn o'er fields where blood hath flowed,
Or tread the Desert's shifting floor?
Lovest thou to haunt the deep sea shore,
Or mourn o'er fields where blood hath flowed,
Or tread the Desert's shifting floor?
Or rovest thou midst Italian bowers,
To weep o'er reliques of the Past?
Or where the funeral-scenery lowers
In Norway's pine woods, dark and vast?
To weep o'er reliques of the Past?
Or where the funeral-scenery lowers
In Norway's pine woods, dark and vast?
Or where old mountain-solitudes
Look down upon the World below?
Or Nature's face our search eludes,
Masked in a mighty robe of snow?
Look down upon the World below?
Or Nature's face our search eludes,
Masked in a mighty robe of snow?
32
Sorrow!—Oh, Sorrow! it were vain
To seek thy favourite seat to scan—
I know thou reign'st with boundless reign
In the Universal Heart of Man!
To seek thy favourite seat to scan—
I know thou reign'st with boundless reign
In the Universal Heart of Man!
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