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185
THE CHANGE.
187
“Oh! never, never can I call
Another morning to my day,
And now through shade to shade I fall
From afternoon to evening grey.”
In bitterness these words I said,
And lo! when I expected least,—
For day was gone,—a moonrise spread
Its emerald radiance up the east.
Another morning to my day,
And now through shade to shade I fall
From afternoon to evening grey.”
In bitterness these words I said,
And lo! when I expected least,—
For day was gone,—a moonrise spread
Its emerald radiance up the east.
By passion's gaudy candle-lights,
I sat and watched the world's brave play;
Blown out,—how poor the trains and sights
Looked in the cruel light of day!
I cursed Man for his spaniel heart,
His bounded brain, his lust of pelf—
Alas! each crime of field and mart
Lived in a dark disease of self.
I sat and watched the world's brave play;
Blown out,—how poor the trains and sights
Looked in the cruel light of day!
188
His bounded brain, his lust of pelf—
Alas! each crime of field and mart
Lived in a dark disease of self.
I saw the smiles and mean salaams
Of slavish hearts; I heard the cry
Of maddened people's throwing palms
Before each cheered and timbreled lie.
I loathed the brazen front and brag
Of bloated time; in self-defence
Withdrew I to my lonely crag,
And fortress of indifference.
Of slavish hearts; I heard the cry
Of maddened people's throwing palms
Before each cheered and timbreled lie.
I loathed the brazen front and brag
Of bloated time; in self-defence
Withdrew I to my lonely crag,
And fortress of indifference.
But Nature is revenged on those
Who turn from her to lonely days:
Contentment, like the speedwell, blows
Along the common-beaten ways.
The dead and thick green-mantled moats
That gird my house resembled me,
Or some long-weeded hull that rots
Upon a glazing tropic sea.
Who turn from her to lonely days:
Contentment, like the speedwell, blows
Along the common-beaten ways.
The dead and thick green-mantled moats
That gird my house resembled me,
189
Upon a glazing tropic sea.
And madness ever round us lies,
The final bourne and end of thought;
And Pleasure shuts her glorious eyes
At one cold glance and melts to nought;
And Nature cannot hear us moan;
She smiles in sunshine, raves in rain—
The music breathed by Love alone
Can ease the world's immortal pain.
The final bourne and end of thought;
And Pleasure shuts her glorious eyes
At one cold glance and melts to nought;
And Nature cannot hear us moan;
She smiles in sunshine, raves in rain—
The music breathed by Love alone
Can ease the world's immortal pain.
The sun for ever hastes sublime,
Waved onward by Orion's lance;
Obedient to the spheral chime,
Across the world the seasons dance;
The flaming elements ne'er bewail
Their iron bounds, their less or more;
The sea can drown a thousand sail,
Yet rounds the pebbles on the shore.
Waved onward by Orion's lance;
Obedient to the spheral chime,
Across the world the seasons dance;
The flaming elements ne'er bewail
Their iron bounds, their less or more;
The sea can drown a thousand sail,
Yet rounds the pebbles on the shore.
190
I looked with pride on what I'd done,
I counted merits o'er anew,
In presence of the burning sun,
Which drinks me like a drop of dew.
A lofty scorn I dared to shed
On human passions, hopes, and jars,
I—standing on the countless dead,
And pitied by the countless stars.
I counted merits o'er anew,
In presence of the burning sun,
Which drinks me like a drop of dew.
A lofty scorn I dared to shed
On human passions, hopes, and jars,
I—standing on the countless dead,
And pitied by the countless stars.
But mine is now a humbled heart,
My lonely pride is weak as tears;
No more I seek to stand apart,
A mocker of the rolling years.
Imprisoned in this wintry clime,
I've found enough, O Lord of breath,
Enough to plume the feet of time,
Enough to hide the eyes of death.
My lonely pride is weak as tears;
No more I seek to stand apart,
A mocker of the rolling years.
Imprisoned in this wintry clime,
I've found enough, O Lord of breath,
Enough to plume the feet of time,
Enough to hide the eyes of death.
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