 | Poems of home and travel |  |
207
A REQUIEM IN THE NORTH.
Speed swifter, Night!—wild Northern Night,
Whose feet the Arctic islands know,
When stiffening breakers, sharp and white,
Gird the complaining shores of snow!
Send all thy winds to sweep the wold,
And howl in mountain passes far,
And hang thy banners, red and cold,
Against the shield of every star!
Whose feet the Arctic islands know,
When stiffening breakers, sharp and white,
Gird the complaining shores of snow!
Send all thy winds to sweep the wold,
And howl in mountain passes far,
And hang thy banners, red and cold,
Against the shield of every star!
For what have I to do with morn,
Or summer's glory in the vales—
With the blithe ring of forest-horn,
Or beckoning gleam of snowy sails?
Art thou not gone, in whose blue eye
The fleeting summer dawned to me?
Gone, like the echo of a sigh
Beside the loud, resounding sea!
Or summer's glory in the vales—
With the blithe ring of forest-horn,
Or beckoning gleam of snowy sails?
Art thou not gone, in whose blue eye
The fleeting summer dawned to me?
Gone, like the echo of a sigh
Beside the loud, resounding sea!
208
O, brief that time of song and flowers,
Which blessed, through thee, the Northern Land
I pine amid its leafless bowers,
And on the bleak and lonely strand.
The forest wails the starry bloom
Which yet shall light its dusky floor,
But down my spirit's paths of gloom
Thy love shall blossom nevermore.
Which blessed, through thee, the Northern Land
I pine amid its leafless bowers,
And on the bleak and lonely strand.
The forest wails the starry bloom
Which yet shall light its dusky floor,
But down my spirit's paths of gloom
Thy love shall blossom nevermore.
And nevermore shall battling pines
Their solemn triumph sound for me;
Nor morning gild the mountain lines,
Nor sunset flush the hoary sea;
But Night and Winter fill the sky,
And load with frost the shivering air,
Till every gust that hurries by
Repeats the tale of my despair.
Their solemn triumph sound for me;
Nor morning gild the mountain lines,
Nor sunset flush the hoary sea;
But Night and Winter fill the sky,
And load with frost the shivering air,
Till every gust that hurries by
Repeats the tale of my despair.
The leaden twilight, cold and long,
Is slowly settling o'er the wave;
No wandering blast awakes a song
In naked boughs, above thy grave.
The frozen air is still and dark;
The numb earth lies in icy rest;
And all is dead save this one spark
Of burning grief, within my breast.
Is slowly settling o'er the wave;
No wandering blast awakes a song
In naked boughs, above thy grave.
The frozen air is still and dark;
The numb earth lies in icy rest;
And all is dead save this one spark
Of burning grief, within my breast.
209
Life's darkened orb shall wheel no more
To Love's rejoicing summer back:
My spirit walks a wintry shore,
With not a star to cheer its track.
Speed swifter, Night! thy gloom and frost
Are free to spoil and ravage here;
This last wild requiem for the lost
I pour in thy unheeding ear!
To Love's rejoicing summer back:
My spirit walks a wintry shore,
With not a star to cheer its track.
Speed swifter, Night! thy gloom and frost
Are free to spoil and ravage here;
This last wild requiem for the lost
I pour in thy unheeding ear!
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