 | Poems |  |
TO-NIGHT.
Through level fields of silent snow,
Through all the darkening eve,
Where black and sullen rivers flow,
Through banks of drifted white below,
And idly fret or grieve;
Through all the darkening eve,
Where black and sullen rivers flow,
Through banks of drifted white below,
And idly fret or grieve;
Where crowding woods on either hand
Leafless and vague and gray,
The saddest ghosts of summer stand,
And shadow all the frozen land
About our onward way;
Leafless and vague and gray,
The saddest ghosts of summer stand,
And shadow all the frozen land
About our onward way;
Where everlasting fortresses
Hang high above the path,
Grim wardens of the wilderness
With summits as barren as distress
And pitiless as wrath.
Hang high above the path,
Grim wardens of the wilderness
With summits as barren as distress
And pitiless as wrath.
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With glare and gleam on rock and tree,
With clatter and with roar,
In curdling mists a mystery
A dragon creature dread to see,
We speed from shore to shore.
With clatter and with roar,
In curdling mists a mystery
A dragon creature dread to see,
We speed from shore to shore.
A shriek, a clashing, now we pause,
A hurry and a light;
Far off the village street withdraws,
And still as God's eternal laws
Shuts down the dreary night.
A hurry and a light;
Far off the village street withdraws,
And still as God's eternal laws
Shuts down the dreary night.
Oh! weary eye, look out no more!
Thou canst not see the pane,
With little faces smiling o'er
The snow-lit waste; thy heart is sore,
Thy soul is torn in vain.
Thou canst not see the pane,
With little faces smiling o'er
The snow-lit waste; thy heart is sore,
Thy soul is torn in vain.
Go home, and hide thy wasted tears,
Conceal thy mortal grief;
Go, stifle all thy hopes and fears,
Crush out the lingering love of years,
Thank God that life is brief.
Conceal thy mortal grief;
Go, stifle all thy hopes and fears,
Crush out the lingering love of years,
Thank God that life is brief.
Rekindle in thy fainting breast
Its courage and its pride,
Be every coward pang repressed,
Bear all thou canst, forget the rest.
Is slaying or is suffering best?
The dead not all have died.
Its courage and its pride,
Be every coward pang repressed,
Bear all thou canst, forget the rest.
Is slaying or is suffering best?
The dead not all have died.
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