 | The poetical works of Lucy Larcom |  |
MY FEAR.
Beyond the boundaries of the grave send I
A single fear,
One only, for myself. Beneath God's eye
The eternal mountains rise in sunshine clear,
And through unwithering woodlands, far and near,
Float hymns of happy souls, like bird-songs high.
A single fear,
One only, for myself. Beneath God's eye
The eternal mountains rise in sunshine clear,
And through unwithering woodlands, far and near,
Float hymns of happy souls, like bird-songs high.
Somewhere in that large, beautiful Unknown
My place will be;
And somewhere, clasped within its boundless zone,
O spirits I have clung to here, will ye
Fulfill your dreams of immortality;
My fear is, to be left of you alone.
My place will be;
And somewhere, clasped within its boundless zone,
O spirits I have clung to here, will ye
Fulfill your dreams of immortality;
My fear is, to be left of you alone.
I know not what awaits, of bliss or bale;
I only know
That of God's guardianship no soul can fail:
But, whether on dusk oceans drifted slow,
Or swift through populous starry streets we go,
Welcome will be loved voices, calling, “Hail!”
I only know
That of God's guardianship no soul can fail:
But, whether on dusk oceans drifted slow,
Or swift through populous starry streets we go,
Welcome will be loved voices, calling, “Hail!”
We mortals veil such depths of loneliness
With outward calm,
And with the hope of heaven's complete redress
For earthly losses! Failing of that balm,
How can we have the heart for chant or psalm,
Or read our life as more than meaningless?
With outward calm,
And with the hope of heaven's complete redress
For earthly losses! Failing of that balm,
How can we have the heart for chant or psalm,
Or read our life as more than meaningless?
Yet noble work will there go nobly on;
For love and thought
Will find a grander scope when earth is gone.
Mine, haply, must in solitude be wrought,
Or with heaven's foreigners: I may be brought
Never to those I knew, time's road upon.
For love and thought
Will find a grander scope when earth is gone.
Mine, haply, must in solitude be wrought,
Or with heaven's foreigners: I may be brought
Never to those I knew, time's road upon.
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You, best belovèd, may new neighbors find,
Whose gifts will blend
With every upward reach of heart and mind:
Toiling among them for some glorious end,
Perhaps you wholly will forget the friend
You walked with, in green pastures left behind.
Whose gifts will blend
With every upward reach of heart and mind:
Toiling among them for some glorious end,
Perhaps you wholly will forget the friend
You walked with, in green pastures left behind.
Shall we then grow more saintly, waxing cold
And deaf to all
The tenderness that breathing lips have told?
Doth not God speak in every human call?
Loss is it from one trusted heart to fall,
Though shipwrecked among splendors manifold.
And deaf to all
The tenderness that breathing lips have told?
Doth not God speak in every human call?
Loss is it from one trusted heart to fall,
Though shipwrecked among splendors manifold.
Still, in that ample realm, none may intrude
On the domain
Of separate, inmost being: if he could,
We should wish back our mortal shells again,
For shelter and seclusion; should complain,
Might we not hide from saints' eyes, if we would.
On the domain
Of separate, inmost being: if he could,
We should wish back our mortal shells again,
For shelter and seclusion; should complain,
Might we not hide from saints' eyes, if we would.
And who the dearest of his friends would bind
Unto his side
In any world, without a willing mind?
Who needs me not, must not with me abide,
Howe'er my need may seem. Since God is guide,
Each pilgrim soul his lonely way shall find;
Unto his side
In any world, without a willing mind?
Who needs me not, must not with me abide,
Howe'er my need may seem. Since God is guide,
Each pilgrim soul his lonely way shall find;
And in the untraveled wilderness shall bloom
Life's perfect rose.
A Heart divinely human through the gloom
Throbs like a guiding footstep; warms and glows,
Until the dark with dayspring overflows,
And the bowed soul is crowned with blissful doom.
Life's perfect rose.
A Heart divinely human through the gloom
Throbs like a guiding footstep; warms and glows,
Until the dark with dayspring overflows,
And the bowed soul is crowned with blissful doom.
And so I drop at last my single fear;
In His sweet will
Hiding my own heart's dream, however dear:
All that concerneth me will He fulfill;
No drop of joy His steady hand can spill:
Nor do I wait for heaven, since heaven is here.
In His sweet will
Hiding my own heart's dream, however dear:
All that concerneth me will He fulfill;
No drop of joy His steady hand can spill:
Nor do I wait for heaven, since heaven is here.
| The poetical works of Lucy Larcom | |