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104
THE LAST ENEMY.
An Enemy comes to me,
He is coming before the night;
Ere to-night the battle must be;
It may be while noon is bright.
He is coming before the night;
Ere to-night the battle must be;
It may be while noon is bright.
Some few first morning hours
I knew not this Dread must come;
Then each dewy flower seemed a world
With its sun of joy impearled,
Yet the farthest star a home.
I knew not this Dread must come;
Then each dewy flower seemed a world
With its sun of joy impearled,
Yet the farthest star a home.
But he came near to me,
And the boundless bounded grew,
The countless stars seemed few;
For I felt the world's cold rim—
I saw where the light grew dim,
And I thought evermore as I went,
“At the next turn of the path,
So familiar, so like the last,
Where the old familiar trees,
And the homely thrifty bees,
And the birds to their nests flitting past,
Familiar shadows cast,
This strange new shadow may fall,
His shadow may shadow them all.
And ere I can lift my eyes,
Not only blossom and tree,
But the sun, and the earth, and the sea,
All I can hear or see
Like a shadow behind me lies:
Nor only the things I see;
But ye, beloved, ye!
Ye may grow shadows to me:
And I a shadow to you,
A shadow one hour or two;
Then less than a shadow, a dream,
Less than a dream I may be,—
A dream's faint memory.
And the boundless bounded grew,
The countless stars seemed few;
For I felt the world's cold rim—
I saw where the light grew dim,
And I thought evermore as I went,
“At the next turn of the path,
So familiar, so like the last,
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And the homely thrifty bees,
And the birds to their nests flitting past,
Familiar shadows cast,
This strange new shadow may fall,
His shadow may shadow them all.
And ere I can lift my eyes,
Not only blossom and tree,
But the sun, and the earth, and the sea,
All I can hear or see
Like a shadow behind me lies:
Nor only the things I see;
But ye, beloved, ye!
Ye may grow shadows to me:
And I a shadow to you,
A shadow one hour or two;
Then less than a shadow, a dream,
Less than a dream I may be,—
A dream's faint memory.
“For though I know not the hour,
The end of the Fight I know.
He will conquer, not I;
He will come and lay me low.
To many I knew he drew nigh,
And with all it ended so.
Like them I shall fight to the last,
Confront him with hand and eye:
Perhaps I shall hope to the last;
But he will conquer, not I.
The end of the Fight I know.
He will conquer, not I;
He will come and lay me low.
To many I knew he drew nigh,
And with all it ended so.
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Confront him with hand and eye:
Perhaps I shall hope to the last;
But he will conquer, not I.
“Of all I have seen him strike,
He has stricken not one alike.
To some like a Beast of Prey
He has come in the still noon-day,
From the quiet reeds by the pool,
From the forest calm and cool,
With a sudden spring and a cry,
Swept in a breath away;
Or eagle-like from on high
With a sudden swoop and no cry,
From the calm of a cloudless sky.
He has stricken not one alike.
To some like a Beast of Prey
He has come in the still noon-day,
From the quiet reeds by the pool,
From the forest calm and cool,
With a sudden spring and a cry,
Swept in a breath away;
Or eagle-like from on high
With a sudden swoop and no cry,
From the calm of a cloudless sky.
“To some like the syren maids
Fabled by those of old,
Lulling them softly to sleep,
Lulling them down to the deep,
To the darkness and the cold.
Fabled by those of old,
Lulling them softly to sleep,
Lulling them down to the deep,
To the darkness and the cold.
“He may be now by my side,
As I sit at my work alone.
If I turn my head I may see
His terrible eyes on me,—
And my heart may turn to stone.”
As I sit at my work alone.
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His terrible eyes on me,—
And my heart may turn to stone.”
Thus I waited and dreaded long.
But I do not dread him now;
I have seen the slave's chain on his hand,
The captive's brand on his brow.
But I do not dread him now;
I have seen the slave's chain on his hand,
The captive's brand on his brow.
I have felt the touch of the Hand,
The living, loving Hand,
The Hand that holds his chain!
I shall feel it yet again,—
Feel it all fetters burst,—
Only that cold touch first!
The living, loving Hand,
The Hand that holds his chain!
I shall feel it yet again,—
Feel it all fetters burst,—
Only that cold touch first!
I know the look of the Eyes
Those terrible eyes obey;
I have seen them moist with tears,
For the weary, wandering, perplext;
But when I see them next,
They will smile all tears away.
Those terrible eyes obey;
I have seen them moist with tears,
For the weary, wandering, perplext;
But when I see them next,
They will smile all tears away.
And like a frightened child,
Led up to the shadow it feared,
Standing with Him on the height,
The mountain-height at His feet,
Where the earth and the heavens meet,
With His smile for the world's and my light;
Led up to the shadow it feared,
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The mountain-height at His feet,
Where the earth and the heavens meet,
With His smile for the world's and my light;
Like a shadow, far down, I shall see,
Not the earth and the sea He upholds,
Not you, whom His love enfolds,
But far, far under me,
Like a shadow that flits o'er the sea,
Himself, the Last Enemy.
Not the earth and the sea He upholds,
Not you, whom His love enfolds,
But far, far under me,
Like a shadow that flits o'er the sea,
Himself, the Last Enemy.
1867.
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