 | Poems |  |
27
THE TIRED LIFE.
Thank you, lady, for coming, thank you for coming to-day,
For to-morrow to dying people is a voice from far away;
Faintly it sounds this evening, and ere it swells on my ears,
The veil will have fallen for ever on the spirit of her who hears.
For to-morrow to dying people is a voice from far away;
Faintly it sounds this evening, and ere it swells on my ears,
The veil will have fallen for ever on the spirit of her who hears.
I mind me when first we started on the journey that's nearly done,
There was never a cloud in the morning, nor ever a speak on the sun;
How lightly we bent the heather, how gaily we carolled along,
There was never a halt in our dancing, nor ever a pause in our song.
There was never a cloud in the morning, nor ever a speak on the sun;
28
There was never a halt in our dancing, nor ever a pause in our song.
One spoke of the shadowy forest, and one of the marvellous town,
The dawn would be slow for our pleasure, the sun should never go down:
We hoped to travel for ever, and is it not strange that I,
Who have travelled so very little, should be so ready to die?
The dawn would be slow for our pleasure, the sun should never go down:
We hoped to travel for ever, and is it not strange that I,
Who have travelled so very little, should be so ready to die?
But some went after the waters that gleamed with a treacherous light,
Or the birds and the butterflies followed, that hovered for ever in sight,
Till torn, and sullied, and bleeding they danced and carolled no more,
Though they ever followed the phantom that ever floated before.
Or the birds and the butterflies followed, that hovered for ever in sight,
Till torn, and sullied, and bleeding they danced and carolled no more,
Though they ever followed the phantom that ever floated before.
29
And our green and beautiful pathway became so stony and straight,
The sun hung burning above us, and vexed us early and late,
For early and late we travelled, and oft at the coming of night,
We were so tired and hungry, we hardly wished for the light.
The sun hung burning above us, and vexed us early and late,
For early and late we travelled, and oft at the coming of night,
We were so tired and hungry, we hardly wished for the light.
Yet we clasped our hands in each other's, and fellow-ship lightened the way,
And night was the friend of the friendless, and night is long as the day;
You say there's a Being that loves us, and one with that Being at war,
Well, our enemy dies with the daylight and our friend is born with the star.
And night was the friend of the friendless, and night is long as the day;
You say there's a Being that loves us, and one with that Being at war,
Well, our enemy dies with the daylight and our friend is born with the star.
But one dropped off and another, and fewer and fewer made moan,
Till all had rest from their labour, and I was left here alone,
Alone in this dreary city, it is not so strange that I,
Who am going too from my labour, should be so ready to die.
Till all had rest from their labour, and I was left here alone,
30
Who am going too from my labour, should be so ready to die.
I've heard that we once were happy, till a cruel fiend crept in,
And breathed a blight on the garden where nothing but beauty had been;
But an antidote lay in the poison, and hope in the blight of his breath,
And death was the name of the poison, the name of the antidote death.
And breathed a blight on the garden where nothing but beauty had been;
But an antidote lay in the poison, and hope in the blight of his breath,
And death was the name of the poison, the name of the antidote death.
| Poems | |