o thou great Movement of the Universe, Or Change, or Flight of Time—for ye are one! That bearest, silently, this visible scene Into night’s shadow and the streaming rays Of starlight, whither art thou bearing me? I feel the mighty current sweep me on, Yet know not whither. Man foretells afar The courses of the stars; the very hour He knows when they shall darken or grow bright; Yet doth the eclipse of Sorrow and of Death Come unforewarned. Who next, of those I love, Shall pass from life, or, sadder yet, shall fall From virtue? Strife with foes, or bitterer strife With friends, or shame and general scorn of men— Which who can bear?—or the fierce rack of pain— Lie they within my path? Or shall the years Push me, with soft and inoffensive pace, Into the stilly twilight of my age? Or do the portals of another life Even now, while I am glorying in my strength, Impend around me? Oh, beyond that bourne, In the vast cycle of being which begins At that dread threshold, with what fairer forms Shall the great law of change and progress clothe Its working? Gently—so have good men taught— Gently, and without grief, the old shall glide Into the new; the eternal flow of things, Like a bright river of the fields of heaven, Shall journey onward in perpetual peace.
From "An Evening Revery"
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