 | Poems |  |
56
HAUNTED GROUND.
“It is the soul that sees.”
The rest have wandered on—
Stay thou with me, dear friend, awhile, awhile;
The air is full of voices, leading on,
As o'er enchanted isle.
Stay thou with me, dear friend, awhile, awhile;
The air is full of voices, leading on,
As o'er enchanted isle.
This ground is writ all o'er
With the soul's history; I may not choose—
Spell-bound—but pause above this living lore
To linger and to muse.
With the soul's history; I may not choose—
Spell-bound—but pause above this living lore
To linger and to muse.
We give of what we take
From life of outward things; our spirits leave,
Where they have been, a glory in their wake
More bright than they receive.
From life of outward things; our spirits leave,
Where they have been, a glory in their wake
More bright than they receive.
And this was once my Home:
The leaves, light rustling o'er me, whisper clear—
“The sun but shines on thee where thou dost roam,
It smiled upon thee here.”
The leaves, light rustling o'er me, whisper clear—
“The sun but shines on thee where thou dost roam,
It smiled upon thee here.”
57
And these are of the things
That God hath taken from me, safe to keep;
Sometimes to let me look on them, He brings
Them to me in my sleep;
That God hath taken from me, safe to keep;
Sometimes to let me look on them, He brings
Them to me in my sleep;
And I have been in sleep
So oft among them, now their aspect seems
The vague soft glow evanishing, to keep,
Of half-remembered dreams.
So oft among them, now their aspect seems
The vague soft glow evanishing, to keep,
Of half-remembered dreams.
Thou shouldst have been with me
Of old, dear friend, as now! and borne a part
In all that was—then Life were filled with thee
As wholly as the Heart!
Of old, dear friend, as now! and borne a part
In all that was—then Life were filled with thee
As wholly as the Heart!
Then hadst thou won mine eyes
My soul to look through; half it angers me
To think a sweetness on the years can rise
That is not mixed with Thee!
My soul to look through; half it angers me
To think a sweetness on the years can rise
That is not mixed with Thee!
Yet stoop with me to trace
These olden records, overrun with bloom;
The Dead are underneath, and yet the place
Looks hardly like a tomb.
These olden records, overrun with bloom;
The Dead are underneath, and yet the place
Looks hardly like a tomb.
This is the wood-walk; oft
I feel a clasp detaining—not the fold
Of clinging bindweed—far more close and soft,
For here in days of old
I feel a clasp detaining—not the fold
Of clinging bindweed—far more close and soft,
For here in days of old
58
My earliest friend with me
Walked hand in hand; we sat long hours upon
This bank; and I am on the earth, but she
Had wings, and she is gone.
Walked hand in hand; we sat long hours upon
This bank; and I am on the earth, but she
Had wings, and she is gone.
See! see! the ancient hall
With sunset on it! Now the windows flame
In evening light—they flash and glitter all—
And one looks still the same
With sunset on it! Now the windows flame
In evening light—they flash and glitter all—
And one looks still the same
As when my mother kept
Upon me, while I played, an eye of love;
Since then, it oft has watched me while I wept,
Still watching, from above!
Upon me, while I played, an eye of love;
Since then, it oft has watched me while I wept,
Still watching, from above!
As then she used to smile,
And softly stroke my head; so now my heart
These gentle memories stroke and soothe—awhile,
Awhile we will not part.
And softly stroke my head; so now my heart
These gentle memories stroke and soothe—awhile,
Awhile we will not part.
Kind shadows! from the door,
At noon-day with a joyous shout flung wide,
I see the merry children rush, before
Its welcome stroke had died.
At noon-day with a joyous shout flung wide,
I see the merry children rush, before
Its welcome stroke had died.
The old domestic, grey
And bowed with weight of many years, whose look
And grave kind smile still followed on the way
Our flying footsteps took;
And bowed with weight of many years, whose look
And grave kind smile still followed on the way
Our flying footsteps took;
59
Such wealth was his in store
Of loving words—when fain he would be stern
And chide our rovings, all his speech the more
To tenderness would turn!
Of loving words—when fain he would be stern
And chide our rovings, all his speech the more
To tenderness would turn!
As twilight brings a face
Drawn faint, yet perfect, on the darkening wall;
So on me rise the spirits of each place,
Yet bring not gloom withal.
Drawn faint, yet perfect, on the darkening wall;
So on me rise the spirits of each place,
Yet bring not gloom withal.
Heaven's wasted wealth, the gold
It gave for treasure slighted and ungraced,
Earth's kindly seeds of love on soil too cold
Let darkly run to waste,
It gave for treasure slighted and ungraced,
Earth's kindly seeds of love on soil too cold
Let darkly run to waste,
That needed but our care
To bloom for ever round the heart serene;
These, these the forms of evil things that were,
Of good that might have been,
To bloom for ever round the heart serene;
These, these the forms of evil things that were,
Of good that might have been,
Time gathers silently,
Yet from their ashes troubling phantoms sends
More stern than these of happy hours gone by,
Than these of buried friends;
Yet from their ashes troubling phantoms sends
More stern than these of happy hours gone by,
Than these of buried friends;
More sad than these that smile
And whisper, “Now thou comest as a guest
Where once thou dwelt—yet mourn not thou the while,
Because thou hast been blest!”
And whisper, “Now thou comest as a guest
Where once thou dwelt—yet mourn not thou the while,
Because thou hast been blest!”
| Poems | |