And she can pour forth in such converse high, And more forlorn, amidst the world's gay throng, THE PRAYER FOR LIFE. O SUNSHINE and fair earth! Sweet is your kindly mirth, Angel of death! yet, yet awhile delay! Too sad it is to part, Thus in my spring of heart, With all the light and laughter of the day. For me the falling leaf Touches no chord of grief, No dark void in the rose's bosom lies: Not one triumphal tone, One hue of hope, is gone From song or bloom beneath the summer skies. Death, Death! ere yet decay, Call me not hence away, Over the golden hours no shade is thrown; The poesy that dwells Deep in green woods and dells, Still to my spirit speaks of joy alone. THE PRAYER FOR LIFE. 235 Yet not for this, O Death! Not for the vernal breath Of winds that shake forth music from the trees; Not for the splendour given To night's dark regal heaven, But for the happy love A rainbow-tinted shower Of richer life-spare, spare me yet awhile. Too soon, too fast thou'rt come! Too beautiful is home, A home of gentle voices and kind eyes! On whom fond blessings fall From every lip-oh! wilt thou rend such ties? Sweet sisters! weave a chain My spirit to detain; Hold me to earth with strong affection back: Bind me with mighty love Unto the stream, the grove, Our daily paths-our life's familiar track. Stay with me! gird me round! Your voices bear a sound Of hope-a light comes with you and departs; Hush, my soul's boding swell, That murmurs of farewell; How can I leave this ring of kindest hearts? Death! grave!—and are there those 'Midst the rich beauty of the glowing earth? No world of loving eyes Leave me, oh! leave me unto home and hearth! THE WELCOME TO DEATH. THOU art welcome, O thou warning voice! Thou art welcome as sweet sounds from shore I hear thee in the rustling woods, In the sighing vernal airs; Thou call'st me from the lonely earth, With a deeper tone than theirs. The lonely earth! Since kindred steps A dimness and a hush have lain The silence of the unanswering soul Is on me and around; My heart hath echoes but for thee, Thou still, small, warning sound! THE WELCOME TO DEATH. 237 Voice after voice hath died away, Once in my dwelling heard; Sweet household-name by name hath changed To grief's forbidden word! From dreams of night on each I call, Each of the far removed; And waken to my own wild cry— "Where are ye, my beloved?" Ye left me! and earth's flowers were dim And stars pour'd down another light Than o'er my youth they cast: And mournful tones are in the wind, Thou art welcome, O thou summoner! What eye can reach my heart of hearts, Bearing in light again? E'en could this be, too much of fear O'er love would now be thrown Away, away! from time, from change, THE VICTOR. "De tout ce qui t'aimoit n'est-il plus rien qui t'aime?" MIGHTY ones, Love and Death! Ye are the strong in this world of ours, LAMARTINE. Ye meet at the banquets, ye dwell 'midst the flowers, -Which hath the conqueror's wreath? Thou art the victor, Love! Thou art the fearless, the crown'd, the free, Thou hast look'd on Death, and smiled! No!-Thou art the victor, Death! Thou comest, and where is that which spoke, Thou comest-and what is left Of all that loved us, to say if aught Yet loves yet answers the burning thought Silence is where thou art! Silently there must kindred meet, No smile to cheer, and no voice to greet, |