 | [Love's Requiem, in] Lays of the Western World |  |
Love's Requiem,
The
crag – the steed – the bounding skiff!
Who fashioned out her spirit high
To light them all with beauty? if
The foot – the form – the speaking eye,
Belong not first to him who sees
Them through all natures sympathies?
Who made her noble – fair – and free
Of soaring thought? if not for me?
For me – born but those plumes to grasp
Which wing her mind, of bright unrest,
And nerve them in affection's clasp
For flight unerring and all blest!
Who fashioned out her spirit high
To light them all with beauty? if
The foot – the form – the speaking eye,
Belong not first to him who sees
Them through all natures sympathies?
Who made her noble – fair – and free
Of soaring thought? if not for me?
For me – born but those plumes to grasp
Which wing her mind, of bright unrest,
And nerve them in affection's clasp
For flight unerring and all blest!
Bride
of my soul! am I so changed
Since parting in some other sphere
The fields of air our spirits ranged
To meet again, half knowing here,
Who filled thy soul with tenderness
Some hungry soul like mine to bless?
Who sent me here on hollow quest
If by my coming thou'rt unblest?
Leaving thee, rich in love, undone,
A half a soul, on earth to wither
If still thy true communing one
Had not, as rich in love, come hither!
Since parting in some other sphere
The fields of air our spirits ranged
To meet again, half knowing here,
Who filled thy soul with tenderness
Some hungry soul like mine to bless?
Who sent me here on hollow quest
If by my coming thou'rt unblest?
Leaving thee, rich in love, undone,
A half a soul, on earth to wither
If still thy true communing one
Had not, as rich in love, come hither!
Alas
! I climb the crag no more –
My failing steed is weak of limb –
My boat lies broken on the shore –
My spirit-vision waxeth dim –
The foot – the eye – the form divine
Must gladden other paths than mine
The heart, with love for all Gods things,
Claim fresher spirit's ministerings –
While I – a waif upon the strand
Tossed from the current of life's river –
See the bright flower that mocks my hand
Go by forever; and forever!
My failing steed is weak of limb –
My boat lies broken on the shore –
My spirit-vision waxeth dim –
The foot – the eye – the form divine
Must gladden other paths than mine
The heart, with love for all Gods things,
Claim fresher spirit's ministerings –
While I – a waif upon the strand
Tossed from the current of life's river –
See the bright flower that mocks my hand
Go by forever; and forever!
| [Love's Requiem, in] Lays of the Western World | |