119 A Thought of the Future. To watch, in dying hope, affection's wane, To waste the untold riches of the heart- Through long, long years to seek, to strive, to yearn To pour the soul out, winning no return, On things that fail us, reed by reed, to lean, To mourn the changed, the far away, the dead; Words of triumphant music! Bear we on A THOUGHT OF THE FUTURE. D REAMER! and wouldst thou know If love goes with us to the viewless bourne? Wouldst thou bear hence th' unfathomed source of woe In thy heart's lonely urn? 120 A Thought of the Future. What hath it been to thee, That power, the dweller of thy secret breast? A precious odour cast On a wild stream, that recklessly swept by; And winning no reply. Even were such answer thine, Wouldst thou be bless'd? Too sleepless, too profound, Are the soul's hidden springs; there is no line Their depth of love to sound. Do not words faint and fail When thou wouldst fill them with that ocean's power? As thine own cheek before high thoughts grows pale, In some o'erwhelming hour. Doth not thy frail form sink Beneath the chain that binds thee to one spot, Is not thy very soul Oft in the gush of powerless blessing shed, And wouldst thou bear all this- With earthly feelings' strife? The Death-Song of Alcestis. Not thus, not thus-oh, no! Not veiled and mantled with dim clouds of care, To breathe celestial air. But as the skylark springs To its own sphere, where night afar is driven, Vainly it shall not strive There on weak words to pour a stream of fire; And oh! its blessings there, 121 Showered like rich balsam forth on some dear head, Powerless no more, a gift shall surely bear, A joy of sunlight shed. Let me, then let me dream That love goes with us to the shore unknown; THE DEATH-SONG OF ALCESTIS. HE came forth in her bridal robes arrayed, Shedding the calm of their celestial mien, hall I22 The Death-Song of Alcestis. Flowers in her bosom, and the star-like gleam Had burdened her full soul. But now, oh! now, Of its immortal voice in triumph broke, Like a strong rushing wind! The soft pure air Came floating through that hall—the Grecian air, Borne on the battling waves of love and death, The Death-Song of Alcestis. All from her woman's heart, in sudden song, Burst like a fount of fire. "I go, I go! 123 Thou sun! thou golden sun! I go Thou shalt not find my place below, "The laurel and the glorious rose O'er the dark wave, I haste from them and thee. "Yet doth my spirit faint to part? -I mourn thee not, O sun! "Let not a voice of weeping rise— "For thee, for thee, my bosom's lord! Mine, mine the rapture, mine the victory! "Now may the boundless love, that lay In one consuming burst find way— |