 | Poems of home and travel |  |
219
LIFE.
O Life! O Life! art thou a mocking cheat,That, with thy flush and fervor in my blood,
Teachest my heart a high, heroic mood,
And passion-joy in all things fair and fleet?
I know the trumpet winds will join no more
With the high stars and billowed sea, to lift
My spirit to the bard's immortal gift—
That when a few warm summers shall be o'er,
And thy last vintage pours its scanty wine,
All these quick flames will die in ashes low,
The sluggish pulse forget its leaping flow,
And faded lie the flowers of Love divine:
When these, thy bounties, fail to warm my breath,
Leave me, false Life, and send thy brother, Death!
| Poems of home and travel | |