 | The bells |  |
87
ELEGIAC.
He never wed with thoughts of death
Worm-eaten hearts and nighty pall,
Nor mystery, like the writings of
The fire-light's finger on the wall:
Worm-eaten hearts and nighty pall,
Nor mystery, like the writings of
The fire-light's finger on the wall:
'Twas but to sink in fibered earth;
To go where buds and blossoms go
In winter time, to rest; then bloom
Through summers of eternal flow.
To go where buds and blossoms go
In winter time, to rest; then bloom
Through summers of eternal flow.
He wrestled nobly with his fate,
And strove to mask his soul's distress;
He passed, a spectre, through the gate
Of death alone and shadowless.
And strove to mask his soul's distress;
He passed, a spectre, through the gate
Of death alone and shadowless.
88
He was to me most like a stream
Which, in some darkened vein of earth
Flows thro' its rocky bowels, but
To daylight never bubbles forth.
Which, in some darkened vein of earth
Flows thro' its rocky bowels, but
To daylight never bubbles forth.
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