 | Poems by William Wetmore Story |  |
269
NEMESIS.
DEDICATED TO E. B. H.
Oppressed by pain, by grief subdued,
I closed at night my weary eyes,
When, in the dubious twilight dim
Betwixt reality and dream,
The awful shape of Nemesis—
The absolute—before me stood.
I closed at night my weary eyes,
When, in the dubious twilight dim
Betwixt reality and dream,
The awful shape of Nemesis—
The absolute—before me stood.
Her hands within her robes involved,
And folded square upon her breast,
Immovable, in perfect rest,
From sight of human eyes concealed
The dread decree of Fate she held,
By time and death to be resolved.
And folded square upon her breast,
Immovable, in perfect rest,
From sight of human eyes concealed
The dread decree of Fate she held,
By time and death to be resolved.
Severe was she in mood and mien,
Like one who never saw surprise;
Who, deaf alike to love or hate,
Or joy or fear, impassionate
Decreed the doom—decreed the prize—
Inexorable, yet serene.
Like one who never saw surprise;
Who, deaf alike to love or hate,
Or joy or fear, impassionate
Decreed the doom—decreed the prize—
Inexorable, yet serene.
270
“Oh! what hast thou for me in store
This side the shadow of the tomb?
Pronounce!” I cried, “or what shall be
The stern decree of destiny
When life and death alike are o'er?”
This side the shadow of the tomb?
Pronounce!” I cried, “or what shall be
The stern decree of destiny
When life and death alike are o'er?”
“Time is of destiny the womb,”
She answered. “Seek not to explore
What the eternal powers above
Conceal, in pity and in love,
Behind the Future's darkened door.
She answered. “Seek not to explore
What the eternal powers above
Conceal, in pity and in love,
Behind the Future's darkened door.
“Content within the present live!
Do the great duty of to-day!
Minute by minute the gods give,
Each unto each for man to lay—
Not to be scorned—nor thrown away.
Do the great duty of to-day!
Minute by minute the gods give,
Each unto each for man to lay—
Not to be scorned—nor thrown away.
“With love and justice build them close
By strenuous act and earnest will!
Nor let your wandering wishes loose
To anxious hopes or fears of ill—
So will you best time's task fulfil!
By strenuous act and earnest will!
Nor let your wandering wishes loose
To anxious hopes or fears of ill—
So will you best time's task fulfil!
“Pile not with vain regrets the grave
Of the irrevocable past!
Seize opportunity—enslave
The living moments while they last!
For Fortune meets half-way the brave.”
Of the irrevocable past!
Seize opportunity—enslave
The living moments while they last!
For Fortune meets half-way the brave.”
271
She ceased; and starting from my sleep,
I heard the roaring thunder, thrown
Far down from mountain steep to steep,
And dying in a distant groan,—
And waking, found myself alone.
I heard the roaring thunder, thrown
Far down from mountain steep to steep,
And dying in a distant groan,—
And waking, found myself alone.
| Poems by William Wetmore Story | |