Índice Geral das Seções Índice da Seção Atual Índice da Obra Atual Anterior: 1. Juncos do Rio Seguinte: 3. Uma Canção da Aurora no Verão
(p. 3)
2.
DUVIDANDO
HERE, where each evening, from the west
Falls the
last radiance, and strews o’er
With
garlands all the sacred floor,
They laid my darling
down to rest.
Here, underneath the
marble, white
And calm
and cold as her dear brow,
She lies in
death and darkness now,
Who was my only life
and light.
My love! who hand in hand with me
Amidst the
busy throng of men,
Didst
closely walk awhile, and then
Wast
taken from me suddenly;
Wast
taken! Whither? Who may say?
I only know
that thou art gone,
And that
for evermore alone
In the great world I
tread the way.
My love! Thou wast a beacon light
To my lost
soul, but in the gale
(p.
4)
Wast quenched, and helplessly I sail
Whither I know not, in
the night.
Thou wast a flower fair and sweet,
In my heart’s
garden reared with care,
But in the
fervent noontide glare
Didst fall and wither
at my feet.
Ah me, is this the end?
What then?
We still
believe and still adore;
But the
quenched fire revives no more,
Nor
blooms the perished flower again.
To live is sweet; but
very strange
Seems it to
die; yet, who shall say
What
sweeter life, what fairer day
May dawn beyond that
awful change?
Beneath us lie the
graves of men,
The silent
stars are overhead;
The silent
stars, –– the silent dead,
And we, the living,
stand between,
And lift vain voices,
and implore
For vaster
truth, and broader light,
But through
the darkness and the night
Comes back the echo, ––
and no more.
______________
(p. 5)
There is a voice gone
through the earth,
From pole
to pole, from east to west,
A crying
voice that will not rest
By
cloistered aisle or homely hearth.
I hear it in the world
of men,
In wrangling
school, and crowded mart,
A reasoning
voice within my heart,
That ever answers me
again:
Thou standest, Christian, by thy faith,
Thy very
weakness is thy might,
The
darkness is thine only light,
Thy GOD a phantom and a wraith.
Hast thou, O man, an
eye to see
Beyond the darkness of the tomb?
Or hast
thou passed Hadean gloom,
Or tasted immortality?
Shall faith suffice to
overthrow
The evidence of things that be?
And priests
and empty creeds decree
Through foolish man,
what man shall know?
O idle preachers! where is he
Can rend
the veil that hangs between
The visible
and things unseen,
What has been –– is –– and
what shall be?
(p. 6)
For how shall human eye
or thought
To such sublimer wisdom reach?
Or mortal
skill presume to teach
What cunning Nature
leaves untaught?
Herein is wisdom, –– that
we know
Our very
selves to be unwise,
So much of
darkness round us lies,
So
much of tyranny and woe.
Yet what avails, though
we be free?
Behold,
since first the world began,
How little
is the life of man,
How poor a thing
humanity!
What then? let Ignorance be rife,
And let us
worship with the crowd,
For Truth
is weak, and Falsehood loud,
And
small the learning of a life.
Nor let us in our pride
be rathe
To crush
the hopes we deem unwise,
For much of
wholesome sweetness lies
In
the fair flower of Christian faith.
Shall then all human
things decay?
And stirring
thought and mind and soul
Die wholly
with the common whole ––
Vain
shadow, vanishing away?
(p. 7)
Mere creatures then of
empty dust,
Mere atoms
in a general plan; ––
Yet
somewhere in the heart of man
Lingers
an old undying trust.
______________
Thou sayest all things fade and die,
Thou holdest faith an idle boast,
And weak,
the souls that love to trust
A
far-off immortality.
Why then the strife
with moral wrong?
The love of moral good? and why,
If all we
love must wholly die,
Should human passion be
so strong?
Shall all the love I
bear to thee,
My buried
darling! pass away?
Nor rather
dawn in fuller day
Upon
some fair eternity?
I know not; only this I
know,
This, that
thou art no longer here,
And day by
day, and year by year,
The clouds above me
seem to grow.
(p. 8)
O would I were where
now thou art!
For these
dead hopes no more shall wake,
And never
summer sun shall break
The shadow brooding on
my heart!
_______________
I mind me how long
years ago,
I heard an
aged minstrel sing,
The legend
of some fairy spring,
Whence
life and youth eternal flow.
And how in wizard days
gone by,
When men
were few, and faith was blind,
The world
was all astir to find
The
source of Immortality.
And lords and knights
in fair array
Went out to
seek the wondrous fount,
And died of
weariness and want,
Or
dropped upon the tedious way.
Till all the land was
searched in vain,
Save one
tall island far at sea,
And there
they said the charm must be,
Girt round with cliff
and seething main.
(p. 9)
And many a crew, the
minstrel said,
Was lost
upon the rocky shore,
Nor ever
home returned they more,
But all the sea was
strewn with dead.
And O! alas, for mortal men!
For that
they labour vainly still,
Nor can
they find that fairy rill
Where
he who drinks is young again.
He sang, and ended with
a sigh,
Then
rising, laid his harp away,
And
dreamily, I heard him say,
“We all must die, –– we
all must die.”
A foolish tale, –– yet
now and then
I turn it
over in my mind,
And idly
wish that I might find,
That stream so sought
of mortal men.
“We all must die,” the
minstrel said,
Amen! it is an ancient truth;
A homely
word in every mouth,
But O! what is
it to be dead?
In vain we fight with
failing breath,
And stretch
forth feeble hands and cry,
“Give me
the magic cup, that I
May drink one draught
and laugh at Death!”
(p. 10)
O me! the grief, –– the long farewell!
The darkened
room, and muffled tread,
And then
she whispered, –– “He is dead,”
But more than this we
cannot tell.
“Ay, life is short!” the
atheist cries,
“And
happiness the goal of men;
Who lives
to mourn, is foolish then,
And he who lives to
laugh is wise.”
But with dimmed eyes,
and folded hands,
“So be it,
LORD,” the Christian saith,
“For Thine alike are life and death,
I bow myself to Thy
commands.”
_______________
I am aweary, love, and fain
Would lay
my head upon thy breast,
Hear thy
dear voice, and lull to rest
This
throbbing pulse of inward pain.
My soul is married unto
thine,
I gave to
thee the higher part,
I made thee
ruler of my heart,
My love, my life, –– what
more was mine?
(p. 11)
But now our bridal
dance is done,
The song,
the jest, the festive speech,
And we are
dearer each to each,
Since night and
stillness make us one.
Too well I loved the
things that seem,
I lay in
sunshine at thy feet,
For O! methought that life was sweet,
And sorrow all an idle
dream.
But Io, between me and
the light,
There came
a cloud so deep and vast,
That all my
heaven was overcast,
And
seemed it altogether night.
And all around me day
by day,
The sound
of woe and wailing grew,
And dimly
in my heart I knew
That one we loved had
passed away.
My tears all those long
days I kept
Locked in
my soul, deep down and low,
I could not
weep for mine own woe,
But when it fell on
thee I wept.
And now art thou more
closely mine,
And I more
nearly one with thee,
Joined in
strong bands of sympathy,
For sympathy is half
divine.
(p. 12)
And undivided now we
stand
By one white
bier where two lie dead,
And
mourners weep with drooped head,
But thou and I are hand
in hand.
My friend! my queen! whom I will keep
Dear
captive in my inner heart,
Until the
prison walls shall part,
And I thy gaoler fall asleep.
______________
That flows
around us still and deep,
And bitter
winds across it sweep,
And we stand watching
on the shore ––
Stand watching at that
river side,
And strain
our eyes if we may see
One glimpse
of immortality
Far
out across the darksome tide.
Ah no! all dreary and unsunned,
Black mists
upon its bosom lie,
Nor human
thought, nor mortal eye
Can
read the mystery beyond.
(p. 13)
But some sit down to
wail and weep
And watch
upon the dreary brink,
And touch
the waves, and touching, shrink ––
That river is so cold
and deep.
And some apart, with
quivering breath
And clasped hands, and darkened eyes,
Fill all
the air with bitter cries, ––
“O
me! thou fearsome tide of death!”
And evermore, one after
one,
They totter
on the slippery brink,
And falling
headlong, helpless sink
Into the river, and are
gone.
But if they reach some
other shore,
Or perish in the bitter
tide,
What power
shall judge –– what skill decide?
We know not, –– they return no more.
Índice Geral das Seções Índice da Seção Atual Índice da Obra Atual Anterior: 1. Juncos do Rio Seguinte: 3. Uma Canção da Aurora no Verão