 | Poems, original and translated |  |
141
CHARLOTTE CUSHMAN.
(Lines suggested by her request, just before she died, to have Lowell's “Columbus” read to her.)
For wast not thou, too, going forth alone
To seek new land across an untried sea?
New land,—yet to thy soul not all unknown,
Nor yet far off, was that blest shore to thee.
To seek new land across an untried sea?
New land,—yet to thy soul not all unknown,
Nor yet far off, was that blest shore to thee.
For thou hadst felt the mighty mystery
That on man's heart and life doth ever rest,—
A shadow of that glorious world to be,
Where love's pure hope is with fruition blest.
That on man's heart and life doth ever rest,—
A shadow of that glorious world to be,
Where love's pure hope is with fruition blest.
Thine was a conflict none else knew but God,
Who gave thee, to endure it, strength divine.
Alone with Him, the wine-press thou hast trod,
And death, His angel, seals the victory thine.
Who gave thee, to endure it, strength divine.
Alone with Him, the wine-press thou hast trod,
And death, His angel, seals the victory thine.
The narrow sea of death thou now hast passed;
The mist is lifted from the unseen land;
The voyage ends; the shining throng at last
Meet thee with welcome on the heavenly strand.
The mist is lifted from the unseen land;
The voyage ends; the shining throng at last
Meet thee with welcome on the heavenly strand.
| Poems, original and translated | |