 | Spindrift |  |
122
UNDER THE SHADOW.
Mutters and moans the pine wood as in pain;
Heavily falls the rain;
From out the hoary mist the breakers hoar
Rush in upon the shore;
Down from the drift of vapoury gloom that hides
The white-scarred mountain-sides,
Abrupt and fierce the foam-white cataract falls
Betwixt its jagged walls;
And past my feet, a river broad and brown
Sweeps to the ocean down.
Heavily falls the rain;
From out the hoary mist the breakers hoar
Rush in upon the shore;
Down from the drift of vapoury gloom that hides
The white-scarred mountain-sides,
Abrupt and fierce the foam-white cataract falls
Betwixt its jagged walls;
And past my feet, a river broad and brown
Sweeps to the ocean down.
No ray of light, no gleam of Summer's blue
The day-dark brightens through;
Nor comes one air of her ambrosial breath
O'er the dim wastes of heath.
And yet I know, could I but pierce the cloud
That folds me like a shroud,
I should behold her beauty, as she smiles
O'er sea and sea-girt isles;
Should hear, about the blooms, her blissful voice,
And in her joy rejoice.
The day-dark brightens through;
Nor comes one air of her ambrosial breath
O'er the dim wastes of heath.
And yet I know, could I but pierce the cloud
That folds me like a shroud,
I should behold her beauty, as she smiles
O'er sea and sea-girt isles;
123
And in her joy rejoice.
Fond dream!—The shadows that to-day obscure
Earth's brightness, must endure
While the dim elements that form this sphere
Of sense—this I—cohere;
Part of myself, they may not be “put by”
At smiling of the sky:
But, as night's ghostly presence since the birth
Of time has clung to earth,
Must they through storm and sunshine cling to me,
Till time hath ceased to be.
Earth's brightness, must endure
While the dim elements that form this sphere
Of sense—this I—cohere;
Part of myself, they may not be “put by”
At smiling of the sky:
But, as night's ghostly presence since the birth
Of time has clung to earth,
Must they through storm and sunshine cling to me,
Till time hath ceased to be.
Then, haply, by the Eternal Love up-drawn
Through ever-brightening dawn,
Towards the Fountain of Primeval Light,
Where never comes the night,—
My soul, released from its polluted tomb
Of flesh, beyond the gloom
Of earthly life may rise; and, purified
From earthly stains, abide
For ever in the presence of the Lord—
Doing His Holy Word.
Through ever-brightening dawn,
Towards the Fountain of Primeval Light,
Where never comes the night,—
My soul, released from its polluted tomb
Of flesh, beyond the gloom
Of earthly life may rise; and, purified
From earthly stains, abide
For ever in the presence of the Lord—
Doing His Holy Word.
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