The new minnesinger and other poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Newly-born, and newly dead,
Of life disinherited;
From its joyaunce and its grief,
In thy sojourn all so brief,
Hath it gather'd germ of good,
Thy scarce conscious babyhood?
Through faint memories canst thou tell
Aught of what on earth befell?
Dimly, darkly, wilt thou miss
Lullaby and mother's kiss?
And a brooding want confess
'Midst the angelic blessedness?

Little lips now shut so fast—
Lips no human word hath past,
Sealèd ears, that never heard
Rush of river, song of bird,
Eyes that were too tired to look
At life's wondrous picture-book;
Senses fine! what have ye found
Sweet in speech, and sight, and sound,
What new earth, and sky, and sea,
Dawns, O baby-soul, to thee?

Little ark-freed eager dove,
Loos'd from our fast-prisoning love,
Though thou joy'st thy wings to try
In the summer-breathing sky,
Yet a little space return;
For our hearts with passion burn
For the tidings thou could'st bring
Lightly on thy carrier wing.

Thou, the child of yesterday,
Hast o'erta'en us on our way;

Thou art nigh to things that we
See far off in mystery.
Clearest light to thee doth shine,
Where we wonder, or divine;
For, a nine day's traveller, thou
Hast o'ertopp'd the mountain's brow,
Whilst we, way-worn wanderers, press
Upward still in weariness.

But when all, both first and last,
To the great Beyond have past,
When the many-nation'd band
Touches the all-havening land,
Thou wilt feel that one is there
Known to thee some other where:
One, amid the stranger throng,
Unto whom thou dost belong;
To whose happy owning eyes
Something in thy heart replies—
Something rising to the pain
Of a memory sought in vain,
Of a bliss thou would'st recall
Missing it afresh, till all

The forgotten tale is told,
As the eager arms enfold,
And the lips, with low-breath'd name,
Their brief motherhood reclaim.