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 | THIRTY-FIVE. The complete works of N.P. Willis |  |
THIRTY-FIVE.
“The years of a man's life are threeseore and ten.”
Oh, weary heart! thou'rt half way home!
We stand on Life's meridian height —
As far from childhood's morning come,
As to the grave's forgetful night.
Give Youth and Hope a parting tear —
Look onward with a placid brow —
Hope promised but to bring us here,
And Reason takes the guidance now —
One backward look — the last — the last!
One silent tear — for Youth is past!
Who goes with Hope and Passion back?
Who comes with me and Memory on?
Oh, lonely looks the downward track —
Joy's music hush'd — Hope's roses gone!
To Pleasure and her giddy troop
Farewell, without a sigh or tear!
But heart gives way, and spirits droop,
To think that Love may leave us here!
Have we no charm when Youth is flown —
Midway to death left sad and lone!
Yet stay! — as 'twere a twilight star
That sends its thread across the wave,
I see a brightening light, from far,
Steal down a path beyond the grave!
And now — bless God! — its golden line
Comes o'er — and lights my shadowy way —
And shows the dear hand clasp'd in mine!
But list! what those sweet voices say!
The better land's in sight,
And, by its chastening light,
All love from life's midway is driven
Save hers whose clasped hand will bring thee on to Heaven!
We stand on Life's meridian height —
As far from childhood's morning come,
As to the grave's forgetful night.
Give Youth and Hope a parting tear —
Look onward with a placid brow —
Hope promised but to bring us here,
And Reason takes the guidance now —
One backward look — the last — the last!
One silent tear — for Youth is past!
Who goes with Hope and Passion back?
Who comes with me and Memory on?
Oh, lonely looks the downward track —
Joy's music hush'd — Hope's roses gone!
To Pleasure and her giddy troop
Farewell, without a sigh or tear!
But heart gives way, and spirits droop,
To think that Love may leave us here!
Have we no charm when Youth is flown —
Midway to death left sad and lone!
Yet stay! — as 'twere a twilight star
That sends its thread across the wave,
I see a brightening light, from far,
Steal down a path beyond the grave!
And now — bless God! — its golden line
Comes o'er — and lights my shadowy way —
And shows the dear hand clasp'd in mine!
But list! what those sweet voices say!
The better land's in sight,
And, by its chastening light,
All love from life's midway is driven
Save hers whose clasped hand will bring thee on to Heaven!
| THIRTY-FIVE. The complete works of N.P. Willis | |