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 | The poems and sonnets of Louise Chandler Moulton |  |
411
II.
THE POET OF HUMAN LIFE.
Silence and Night sequestered thee in vain!
Oblivion's threats thou proudly couldst defy.
Thou art not dead—such great souls do not die:
One small world's range no longer could constrain
That strong-winged spirit of its freedom fain:
New stars, new lives, thy fearless quest would try.
Our baffled vision may not soar so high—
We mourn, as loss, thine infinite, great gain.
Oblivion's threats thou proudly couldst defy.
Thou art not dead—such great souls do not die:
One small world's range no longer could constrain
That strong-winged spirit of its freedom fain:
New stars, new lives, thy fearless quest would try.
Our baffled vision may not soar so high—
We mourn, as loss, thine infinite, great gain.
Yet, keen of sight, to whom men's souls lay bare,
Stripped clean of shams, unclothed of all disguise,
Revealed to thee as if at each soul's birth
Thou hadst been nigh to stamp it foul or fair—
Why shouldst thou seek new schools to make thee wise
Who shared Heaven's secrets whilst thou walked on earth?
Stripped clean of shams, unclothed of all disguise,
Revealed to thee as if at each soul's birth
Thou hadst been nigh to stamp it foul or fair—
Why shouldst thou seek new schools to make thee wise
Who shared Heaven's secrets whilst thou walked on earth?
December, 1890.
| The poems and sonnets of Louise Chandler Moulton | |