Going and Coming

GOING—the great round Sun,   Dragging the captive Day Over behind the frowning hill,   Over beyond the bay,—           Dying: Coming—the dusky Night,   Silently stealing in, Wrapping himself in the soft warm couch   Where the golden-haired Day hath been           Lying. Going—the bright, blithe Spring;   Blossoms! how fast ye fall, Shooting out of your starry sky   Into the darkness all           Blindly! Coming—the mellow days:   Crimson and yellow leaves; Languishing purple and amber fruits   Kissing the bearded sheaves           Kindly! Going—our early friends;   Voices we loved are dumb; Footsteps grow dim in the morning dew;   Fainter the echoes come           Ringing: Coming to join our march,—   Shoulder to shoulder pressed,— Gray-haired veterans strike their tents   For the far-off purple West—           Singing! Going—this old, old life;   Beautiful world, farewell! Forest and meadow! river and hill!   Ring ye a loving knell           O’er us! Coming—a nobler life;   Coming—a better land; Coming—a long, long, nightless day;   Coming—the grand, grand           Chorus!