The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker Edited from the original manuscripts and annotated copies together with a prefatory notice and bibliography by Alfred Wallis |
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“I AM THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE? SAITH THE LORD!” |
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 | The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker |  |
55
“I AM THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE? SAITH THE LORD!”
May, 1840.
We stood beside an opening grave,
By fair Morwenna's walls of grey:
Our hearts were hush'd—the God who gave
Had called a sister-soul away.
Hark! what wild tones around us float:
The chaunting cuckoo's double note!
By fair Morwenna's walls of grey:
Our hearts were hush'd—the God who gave
Had called a sister-soul away.
Hark! what wild tones around us float:
The chaunting cuckoo's double note!
We uttered there the solemn sound—
“Man that is born from flesh of Eve,
The banished flower of Eden's ground,
Hath but a little time to live;”—
And still, amid each pausing word,
The strange cry of that secret bird.
“Man that is born from flesh of Eve,
The banished flower of Eden's ground,
Hath but a little time to live;”—
And still, amid each pausing word,
The strange cry of that secret bird.
“Ashes to ashes—dust to dust”—
The last farewell we sadly said.
Our mighty hope—our certain trust—
The resurrection of the dead.
Again, all air, it glides around,
A voice!—the spirit of a sound.
The last farewell we sadly said.
Our mighty hope—our certain trust—
The resurrection of the dead.
Again, all air, it glides around,
A voice!—the spirit of a sound.
A doctrine dwells in that deep tone;
A truth is borne on yonder wing;
Long years! long years! the note is known—
The blessèd messenger of spring!
Thus saith that pilgrim of the skies:
“Lo! all which dieth shall arise!”
A truth is borne on yonder wing;
Long years! long years! the note is known—
The blessèd messenger of spring!
Thus saith that pilgrim of the skies:
“Lo! all which dieth shall arise!”
56
Rejoice! though dull with wintry gloom
Love's sepulchre and sorrow's night,
The sun shall visit depth and tomb
A season of eternal light!
Like the glad bosom of the rose,
The mound shall burst—the grave unclose!
Love's sepulchre and sorrow's night,
The sun shall visit depth and tomb
A season of eternal light!
Like the glad bosom of the rose,
The mound shall burst—the grave unclose!
Yea! soothed by that unvarying song
What generations here have trod!
What winds have breathed that sound along,
Fit signal of the changeless God!
Hark! yet again the echoes float,
The chaunting cuckoo's double note!
What generations here have trod!
What winds have breathed that sound along,
Fit signal of the changeless God!
Hark! yet again the echoes float,
The chaunting cuckoo's double note!
| The poetical works of Robert Stephen Hawker | |