 | Romance and revery |  |
150
DEO VOLENTE.
While beams of the last vague ember with the dimness blend,
Sitting here, I intensely remember my dear dead friend.
Sitting here, I intensely remember my dear dead friend.
I recall from what deep affection has blossomed my pain,
And I weight it with recollection, like a flower with rain.
And I weight it with recollection, like a flower with rain.
Then the solemn thought comes o'er me, to my soul so dear,
Of a passionate oath he swore me, when the end was near.
Of a passionate oath he swore me, when the end was near.
He swore, and in all faith meant he to keep the vow,
As he murmured: “Deo volente—three nights from now!
As he murmured: “Deo volente—three nights from now!
“If death have an earthly portal leading back to light,
I shall tread with a foot immortal your floor that night.
I shall tread with a foot immortal your floor that night.
151
“And let this trust, I beseech you, in your heart avail,
That supremely I strive to reach you, even though I fail.
That supremely I strive to reach you, even though I fail.
“And the greater the task, the greater my love's unrest!” ...
So speaking, a moment later he died on my breast!
So speaking, a moment later he died on my breast!
[OMITTED]
While the light of the last faint ember is dreamily shed,
Sitting here, I intensely remember the words he said.
Sitting here, I intensely remember the words he said.
Then I make all my soul an altar where my hope may fare
And kneel at its foot to falter one yearning prayer.
And kneel at its foot to falter one yearning prayer.
Whatever the bonds that bind thee, mayst thou strain to rend
Their strength until freedom find thee at my side, O friend!
Their strength until freedom find thee at my side, O friend!
Come with thine old glad bearing untouched of the tomb!
Better this than an angel wearing crown, harp or plume!
Better this than an angel wearing crown, harp or plume!
Yet if love has no power to lure thee past the dread black bound,
Give proof that thou art, I adjure thee, by a sign, a sound!
Give proof that thou art, I adjure thee, by a sign, a sound!
152
[OMITTED]
I crouch near the cold spent ember; I am stirless, dumb;
A chill has crept to the chamber, for the dawn is come.
A chill has crept to the chamber, for the dawn is come.
Through the night I have sat with senses alert, on fire,
While I waited in all suspense's most acute desire.
While I waited in all suspense's most acute desire.
But as dawn gives welcome dimly from her realm remote,
I can hear fact's axe fall grimly upon hope's white throat.
I can hear fact's axe fall grimly upon hope's white throat.
Not a sign or not a sound sent he, and the night is fled!
Ah, God! that “Deo volente” ... it was wisely said!
Ah, God! that “Deo volente” ... it was wisely said!
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