 | The Village Churchyard |  |
69
NO, NO! THE GAYEST FESTIVAL!
No, no! the gayest Festival can charm, can please no more—
Weighed down by breathless gloom's the heart winged buoyantly before.
Even Music, though triumphantly it pierces earth and sky,
But brings fresh trouble to my heart—fresh tear-drops to mine eye.
Weighed down by breathless gloom's the heart winged buoyantly before.
Even Music, though triumphantly it pierces earth and sky,
But brings fresh trouble to my heart—fresh tear-drops to mine eye.
Bright shapes, with flowery Coronals, that move to gladdening sounds,
All graceful through the mazy dance, with joyous, fawn-like bounds:
They but remind me that the Youth hath melted from my heart;
That, 'midst Life's scenes of revelry, the Mourner hath no part!
All graceful through the mazy dance, with joyous, fawn-like bounds:
They but remind me that the Youth hath melted from my heart;
That, 'midst Life's scenes of revelry, the Mourner hath no part!
70
Oh! how sickening unto me—the light of pearls, the sweep of plumes!
What a burthening weight upon the air, the breath of burnt-perfumes!
And the artificial glance and speech—the exaggerated smile—
When with a haughty mournfulness, my deep heart swells the while!
What a burthening weight upon the air, the breath of burnt-perfumes!
And the artificial glance and speech—the exaggerated smile—
When with a haughty mournfulness, my deep heart swells the while!
And pictures' gorgeous sunshine, kindling sudden splendours round;
And high triumphant harpings, thrilling with sea-like sound;—
Whilst thou—oh, darkly-sweeping Night! art exiled then and thence;
In thy dusky and thy cloudy pomp, too searchingly intense!
And high triumphant harpings, thrilling with sea-like sound;—
Whilst thou—oh, darkly-sweeping Night! art exiled then and thence;
In thy dusky and thy cloudy pomp, too searchingly intense!
71
But Night! Imperial Night! thou 'rt lovelier unto me,
With those clouds, like hyacinth-wreaths, o'er Heaven showered beauteously;
In thy silence—in thy grandeur—in thy boundlessness of gloom;
Than the Dancers' sounding hall, or the draperied Palace-room!
With those clouds, like hyacinth-wreaths, o'er Heaven showered beauteously;
In thy silence—in thy grandeur—in thy boundlessness of gloom;
Than the Dancers' sounding hall, or the draperied Palace-room!
Through the forest-arches would I stray, in thy proud ark enshrined;
Where every leaf thrills harp-like, to the rushing of the wind:
Or by the deep sea wander, with a strange and strong delight;
Where the Majesty of Waters, meets the Majesty of Night!
Where every leaf thrills harp-like, to the rushing of the wind:
Or by the deep sea wander, with a strange and strong delight;
Where the Majesty of Waters, meets the Majesty of Night!
72
I love thee, in my deepest heart—thou all-defying Main!
I love each reeking weed, that 'midst thy treasurecells hath lain!
The storm-crash, or the breathlessness of thy moonlighted shore—
When not a breeze doth float, would pierce a muskflower's scented core.
I love each reeking weed, that 'midst thy treasurecells hath lain!
The storm-crash, or the breathlessness of thy moonlighted shore—
When not a breeze doth float, would pierce a muskflower's scented core.
When the dim and slumberous billows, all tremulously glistening—
Come noiselessly along—as if to holiest music listening;—
Oh, joy of joys! to leave the World, its Vanities, and its Woes!
And dwell with Liberty of Soul, in Nature's rich repose!
Come noiselessly along—as if to holiest music listening;—
Oh, joy of joys! to leave the World, its Vanities, and its Woes!
And dwell with Liberty of Soul, in Nature's rich repose!
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