 | Benoni |  |
191
FAREWELL.
At midnight thro' the reverend courts
I wander forth before I go;
And in me the great stir of change
Is moving blindly to and fro:
I wander forth before I go;
And in me the great stir of change
Is moving blindly to and fro:
And joys and blessings never more
To meet in this calm nest again,
And shadows such as haunt the rear
Of happy periods on the wane;
To meet in this calm nest again,
And shadows such as haunt the rear
Of happy periods on the wane;
And thin transparent memories
That thro' each other peep and gaze,
Quickening the place with thought, and mists
Of doubt, that hide the coming days,
That thro' each other peep and gaze,
Quickening the place with thought, and mists
Of doubt, that hide the coming days,
These, closing, clash with jar and whirl,
Make a wild vortex of my soul—
Drive the scared feelings up and down,
Like splinters of a ruin'd whole:
Make a wild vortex of my soul—
Drive the scared feelings up and down,
Like splinters of a ruin'd whole:
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These, arching o'er my heart, as arch
The leaves above a summer glade,
Their webs of differing darkness weave,
Till all my spirit is drown'd in shade.
The leaves above a summer glade,
Their webs of differing darkness weave,
Till all my spirit is drown'd in shade.
So, void and gloom are black within:
Is there no solace in the time
For such a sad farewell?—Above,
The fair white hermit in her prime,
Is there no solace in the time
For such a sad farewell?—Above,
The fair white hermit in her prime,
Who smooths the shifting sward, and smiles
Immortal calm thro' all she sees,
Hath kiss'd a promise from the air
To let her shadows rest in peace.
Immortal calm thro' all she sees,
Hath kiss'd a promise from the air
To let her shadows rest in peace.
Not mute her silence, nor unheard—
“This is not all; for wheresoe'er
Thou walk abroad into the night,
I and my Eden still are there.”
“This is not all; for wheresoe'er
Thou walk abroad into the night,
I and my Eden still are there.”
So it was weak to mourn; and life
Is something more than death and change:
Abiding presences are ours—
Broad beauties, which no length of range
Is something more than death and change:
Abiding presences are ours—
Broad beauties, which no length of range
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Can keep from being o'er us: now!
It is a thing of light and love,
That distance takes not from the eyes
That blue eternity above
It is a thing of light and love,
That distance takes not from the eyes
That blue eternity above
Which sets the scatter'd shreds of Time
As starr'd mosaics, in one dome;
Which makes, that spots of strangest earth
Are sweeten'd with a touch of home.
As starr'd mosaics, in one dome;
Which makes, that spots of strangest earth
Are sweeten'd with a touch of home.
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