 | My Lyrical Life |  |
XIII.
Ah, the sweet Dream, the singing Dream, that sang
We knew not what, so sweet the melody!
Made dim woe glimmer golden while we slept;
And when we woke the lulling Dream was gone.
We knew not what, so sweet the melody!
Made dim woe glimmer golden while we slept;
And when we woke the lulling Dream was gone.
We who had glowed like Angels in the sun,
With life so lighted by her loveliness:
We let her down into the drowning gloom,
Sailing the awful Sea in our World-bark.
With life so lighted by her loveliness:
We let her down into the drowning gloom,
Sailing the awful Sea in our World-bark.
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God's messenger of death seems blindly stern:
And 'tis so hard to leave a little babe
Within the Grave's cold arms, alone! while Sorrow
Comes Home and chills the nest her sweet life warmed.
And 'tis so hard to leave a little babe
Within the Grave's cold arms, alone! while Sorrow
Comes Home and chills the nest her sweet life warmed.
So little to the world! but what a world
Of difference in our little world of home!
This Stillness where the sweet Bird chirped to us;
This good-night-parting, this morn-greeting loss.
Of difference in our little world of home!
This Stillness where the sweet Bird chirped to us;
This good-night-parting, this morn-greeting loss.
And yet perchance the kind dark-Angel drew
Her in the secret shadow of his cloud,
Out of our warm and golden air, to hide
Her from some fearful Fate far-hurrying up?
Her in the secret shadow of his cloud,
Out of our warm and golden air, to hide
Her from some fearful Fate far-hurrying up?
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