 | Areytos or songs and ballads of the South |  |
23
TWO SPIRITS, BEARING TORCHES.
Two spirits, bearing torches,
Stand by each living gate;
One sad and silent marches,
As willing still to wait:
The other, lightly moving
And beautiful to see,
Seems ever bent on roving,
With eager wing and free.
Stand by each living gate;
One sad and silent marches,
As willing still to wait:
The other, lightly moving
And beautiful to see,
Seems ever bent on roving,
With eager wing and free.
The silent spirit chills us—
We loathe that he should wait:
The lively spirit thrills us
With passions all elate;
We dream not he will leave us,
We never think how soon;
And never vex or grieve us
Until he's wholly gone.
We loathe that he should wait:
The lively spirit thrills us
With passions all elate;
We dream not he will leave us,
We never think how soon;
And never vex or grieve us
Until he's wholly gone.
Ah! when he flies, how changes
Our mood for him who waits!
He chills not, though he ranges,
Still silent, at our gates;
Resign'd, if not in gladness,
We join him on his flight,
Through realms of doubt and sadness,
As if he bore to light.
Our mood for him who waits!
He chills not, though he ranges,
Still silent, at our gates;
Resign'd, if not in gladness,
We join him on his flight,
Through realms of doubt and sadness,
As if he bore to light.
Love's torch, thus lifted brightly,
Flames golden in our sky—
We never think how lightly,
Or suddenly, he'll fly;
But earth at length he spurneth—
Death only grasps the torch:
Down then the bright flame turneth,
And darkens all the porch.
Flames golden in our sky—
We never think how lightly,
Or suddenly, he'll fly;
24
Death only grasps the torch:
Down then the bright flame turneth,
And darkens all the porch.
He bears the torch inverted
The other bore on high:
Love seeking Love departed,
Then satisfied to die.
And, through the gloomy portal,
The widowed heart pursues—
Now taught that Love, the mortal,
To Love immortal woos.
The other bore on high:
Love seeking Love departed,
Then satisfied to die.
And, through the gloomy portal,
The widowed heart pursues—
Now taught that Love, the mortal,
To Love immortal woos.
| Areytos or songs and ballads of the South | |