 | Forest leaves |  |
THE DYING BOY.
To die! Oh, it seems sad,
While yet the light of youth is in mine eye,
And all the world so beautiful—so glad—
'Tis sad to die.
While yet the light of youth is in mine eye,
And all the world so beautiful—so glad—
'Tis sad to die.
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I love to see the sun
Sail upward, on a flood of dazzling light,—
Or like a victor, on his pennons, won,
Lie down at night
Sail upward, on a flood of dazzling light,—
Or like a victor, on his pennons, won,
Lie down at night
I love the moonlight nights,
When light clouds hover on the living breeze;
And stars are gleaming, like the sailor's lights,
On shoreless seas.
When light clouds hover on the living breeze;
And stars are gleaming, like the sailor's lights,
On shoreless seas.
I love to see the shower
On fleecy pillows sleeping, low and still,
As if its bed were spread amongst the bowers
Of yon green hill.
On fleecy pillows sleeping, low and still,
As if its bed were spread amongst the bowers
Of yon green hill.
'Till rising in its strength,
Its dusky wings athwart the heavens it throws,
So like an eagle rising in his strength
From long repose.
Its dusky wings athwart the heavens it throws,
So like an eagle rising in his strength
From long repose.
Then comes the quivering flash
Of his keen eye, and then his voice burst forth
In dread low murmurs, or the pealing crash
That rocks the earth.
Of his keen eye, and then his voice burst forth
In dread low murmurs, or the pealing crash
That rocks the earth.
I love the startling shock!
The forests bend beneath his glorious voice;
The iron bases of the mountains rock;
The floods rejoice.
The forests bend beneath his glorious voice;
The iron bases of the mountains rock;
The floods rejoice.
I love the genial earth
When timid flowers are peeping from her breast,
And song-birds come with their melodious mirth,
Each to its nest.
When timid flowers are peeping from her breast,
And song-birds come with their melodious mirth,
Each to its nest.
And when the summer hours
Dry the mown grass, and bleach the rustling grain,
Spread rich ripe berries, and delicious flowers,
O'er hill and plain;
Dry the mown grass, and bleach the rustling grain,
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O'er hill and plain;
When generous autumn flings
Her rich ripe treasures 'mongst the foliage sear;
And agriculture to the granary brings
The yellow ear.—
Her rich ripe treasures 'mongst the foliage sear;
And agriculture to the granary brings
The yellow ear.—
In winter-wind and storm,
And ice, and snow-drift; and high blazing hearth—
In every season—every varied form—
I love the earth.
And ice, and snow-drift; and high blazing hearth—
In every season—every varied form—
I love the earth.
And oh! I love the smile
That lives for me, in many a gentle eye,—
While fresh hearts love, and young hands cling the while,
'Tis hard to die.
That lives for me, in many a gentle eye,—
While fresh hearts love, and young hands cling the while,
'Tis hard to die.
Alas my glorious dreams!
Where is the scholar's laurel chaplet now?
Where now the diadem, with glory beams
For Genius' brow?
Where is the scholar's laurel chaplet now?
Where now the diadem, with glory beams
For Genius' brow?
Already were my feet
Fix'd on the steeps of Science, and mine eyes
Turn'd to her temple, while my bosom beat
To grasp the prize.
Fix'd on the steeps of Science, and mine eyes
Turn'd to her temple, while my bosom beat
To grasp the prize.
Where are my dreams of wealth,
Long life, and honour, power, and usefulness?
Alas, this fell disease with fatal stealth,
Mocks all my bliss.
Long life, and honour, power, and usefulness?
Alas, this fell disease with fatal stealth,
Mocks all my bliss.
O'er all life's glorious dreams
Despair has spread her black and chilling pall.
Love, mirth, and pleasure! All your honeyed streams
Are chang'd to gall.
Despair has spread her black and chilling pall.
Love, mirth, and pleasure! All your honeyed streams
Are chang'd to gall.
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Come, mother! sooth me now,
My rest and weary spirit leans on thee;
Oh, place thy hand once more upon my brow,
And comfort me.
My rest and weary spirit leans on thee;
Oh, place thy hand once more upon my brow,
And comfort me.
Speak kindly in mine ear
As thou wert wont, when aught disturb'd my joy.
Oh come! and with thine angel presence cheer
Thy dying boy.
As thou wert wont, when aught disturb'd my joy.
Oh come! and with thine angel presence cheer
Thy dying boy.
Tell me again of heaven
As thou would'st tell me in mine infancy;
Mother! The bright things of the world, have driven
Thy words away.
As thou would'st tell me in mine infancy;
Mother! The bright things of the world, have driven
Thy words away.
But tell me now again
Of that bright world, where death can never come;
And whisper to me how I may attain
That blessed home.
Of that bright world, where death can never come;
And whisper to me how I may attain
That blessed home.
Kneel down by me, and pray—
The Lord will hear thee for thy dying boy.—
Oh, let me pass from thine embrace, away
To endless joy.
The Lord will hear thee for thy dying boy.—
Oh, let me pass from thine embrace, away
To endless joy.
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