 | Days and Hours |  |
265
AUTUMN SHADOWS.
NO. I. Ah! Death, if, ere thy shadow seals our eyes
I
Ah! Death, if, ere thy shadow seals our eyes,We could behold the unimagined shore
Where good things fly to, when their days are o'er,
Where Wit's sweet laugh, where Fancy's odorous sighs
Are treasured for us, where
Farewell, the piteous prayer,
Breathes hope beyond despair,
Where Mirth looks up again, and sings to morning skies;
II
What bowers young Beauty, in her prime of MayBy the sharp winds untimely overtaken,
Lights with her aspect, when she hath forsaken
The old Earth, like a blossom rapt away;
Where the last tender word
Of sever'd hearts is heard,
And Hope, till doom deferr'd,
Peeps thro' thy dusky gate, and looks into the Day;
266
III
In what soft isles, near what low-breathed seasAll the sweet Nightingale's lost songs are heard;
Where parted Sunsets stay; where Love is stirr'd
With his first dreams; where flown Felicities
Live o'er their banquet hours;
Where Genius twines his flowers;
Where Freedom crown'd with towers
Walks, and her snow-white robe rolls in the light and breeze;
IV
Oh! wouldst thou tell where are the dreams that flyForth from the strong hearts of the young, and fold
Their wings beneath the sorrows of the old;
Where are the visions of rapt Phantasy,
Who sees thro' fires of Even
Swift Shapes come down from Heaven,
And happy Souls forgiven
With wings, and lightning speed ascend into the sky:
267
V
Where all blithe Welcomes on bright morns of SpringStill echo, kindling sunny walks with cheer;
Where snatches of sweet song we sometimes hear
Like odors of wildflowers, or birds a-wing;
Flashes of Heaven that break
Our slumbers, and forsake
The brain, as we awake,
Like flying stars that pass, and leave us sorrowing:
VI
Oh! wouldst thou, cruel Shadow, only tellWhere the old tongues the selfsame words remould,
Where the old eyes smile sweetly as of old;
Where is the blue-ey'd Child I loved so well,
Who slumber'd on my knee,
Till one gray morning she
Left the earth silently,
And Grief upon our home, a Summer shadow fell:
268
VII
Where I shall look again on her who sateBeside the hearthstone of mine ancestry,
Till her loved being grew a part of me,
Thro' all my years, and years beyond their date,
Where will that presence be
That is enshrined in me
Like Immortality?
Will that same brow, that smile, that welcome for me wait?
VIII
Ah! then to them, that mourn for us and sigh,Welcome would be the twilight of thy day,
'Twixt night and morn the cloud would roll away,
And dying eyes would lighten Victory!
Ah! then to living eyes
The face of one that dies
Would be as full of bliss
As sunset is of dawn across the Western sea.
269
NO. II. If Death should come at the appointed hour
I
If Death should come at the appointed hour
Not with his fears, his phantoms, and his sighs,
His javelin, his pale scowl, and hollow eyes,
But like a bridegroom burnish'd from his bower,
Radiant with lovingkindness, and the flower
Of youthful beauty, and should gently say,
‘Give me thy brother, or thy friend, to-day,
And I will give him deathless life and power;’
Not with his fears, his phantoms, and his sighs,
His javelin, his pale scowl, and hollow eyes,
But like a bridegroom burnish'd from his bower,
Radiant with lovingkindness, and the flower
Of youthful beauty, and should gently say,
‘Give me thy brother, or thy friend, to-day,
And I will give him deathless life and power;’
Wouldst thou not storm with sighs that Presence blest,
And clasp his knees, and cling unto his vest?
And cry, ‘Oh! couldst thou give that other part
Of his own life, my sympathetic heart?
Are we not one? oh! will he never pine
For my remember'd eyes, and tones of mine?
Take him; but let my soul no longer be,
Or let it share his immortality!’
And clasp his knees, and cling unto his vest?
And cry, ‘Oh! couldst thou give that other part
Of his own life, my sympathetic heart?
Are we not one? oh! will he never pine
For my remember'd eyes, and tones of mine?
Take him; but let my soul no longer be,
Or let it share his immortality!’
270
II
If he should say ‘O mortal, doom'd to war
With woe, of faint heart, and of feeble will,
Plumed with vain hopes no fortune shall fulfil,
His faithful eye shall seek thee from afar,
And into vales where living waters are
From sorrow he shall turn thy steps aside,
And from the shadow of the towers of Pride:
His winged soul shall reach thee from its star.’
With woe, of faint heart, and of feeble will,
Plumed with vain hopes no fortune shall fulfil,
His faithful eye shall seek thee from afar,
And into vales where living waters are
From sorrow he shall turn thy steps aside,
And from the shadow of the towers of Pride:
His winged soul shall reach thee from its star.’
‘O Spirit, we are dwellers of one home,
Where shall I seek him in the deep To Come?
The Worlds are wide, and when farewell is said,
Can aught restore the living to the dead?
Ah! when I die, will he not mourn in Heaven,
In bliss, in light, if I be unforgiven?
And wherefore should we part to meet again
While I am damn'd to thoughts more dread than pain?
Where shall I seek him in the deep To Come?
The Worlds are wide, and when farewell is said,
Can aught restore the living to the dead?
Ah! when I die, will he not mourn in Heaven,
In bliss, in light, if I be unforgiven?
And wherefore should we part to meet again
While I am damn'd to thoughts more dread than pain?
271
III
If he should say ‘Behold, thy friend is poor,
But I will give him all things: if he mourns
He shall be comforted, nor feel the scorns
Of Time, or taste of anguish any more:
Kind Spirits wait upon a sun-bright shore
To give him welcome: sorrow not, nor sigh,
I waft him where the happy islands lie,
And he shall feel no pain in passing o'er;’
But I will give him all things: if he mourns
He shall be comforted, nor feel the scorns
Of Time, or taste of anguish any more:
Kind Spirits wait upon a sun-bright shore
To give him welcome: sorrow not, nor sigh,
I waft him where the happy islands lie,
And he shall feel no pain in passing o'er;’
Wouldst thou not crave one last look of that face
So long the bright lamp of thy dwelling place?
Say, would thy fond eyes following on the road,
Tho' it should vanish in the light of God,
Be lit with joyful smiles, or dim with tears?
Wouldst thou turn back, or stand with listening ears?
Tho' the last look with glory from the Throne
Should see his garments burn, wouldst not thou bealone?
So long the bright lamp of thy dwelling place?
Say, would thy fond eyes following on the road,
Tho' it should vanish in the light of God,
Be lit with joyful smiles, or dim with tears?
Wouldst thou turn back, or stand with listening ears?
Tho' the last look with glory from the Throne
Should see his garments burn, wouldst not thou bealone?
| Days and Hours | |