From “The Song of Hiawatha”
ALL day long roved Hiawatha
In that melancholy forest,
Through the shadows of whose thickets,
In the pleasant days of Summer,
Of that ne’er forgotten Summer.
He had brought his young wife homeward
From the land of the Dacotahs;
When the birds sang in the thickets,
And the streamlets laughed and...
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Turin,—After News from Gaëta, 1861
Laura Savio of Turin, a poetess and patriot, whose sons were killed at Ancona and Gaëta.DEAD! one of them shot by the sea in the east,
...
And one of them shot in the west by the sea.
Dead! both my boys! When you sit at the feast,
And are wanting a great song for Italy free,
Let none look at me! -
From the German by Sarah Taylor Austin
MANY a year is in its grave
Since I crossed this restless wave:
And the evening, fair as ever,
Shines on ruin, rock, and river.Then in this same boat beside,
Sat two comrades old and tried,—
One with all a father’s truth,
One with all the fire of youth.One on earth in silence...
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To the Happy Dead People
WHAT of the darkness? Is it very fair?
Are there great calms? and find we silence there?
Like soft-shut lilies, all your faces glow
With some strange peace our faces never know,
With some strange faith our faces never dare,—
Dwells it in Darkness? Do you find it there?Is it a Bosom where tired heads may lie?...
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[The Death of Lincoln.]
1.
WHEN lilacs last in the door-yard bloomed,
And the great star early drooped in the western sky in the night,
I mourned and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.Ever-returning spring, trinity sure to me you bring,
...
Lilacs blooming perennial, and drooping star in the west,
And thought of him I love. -
My body, eh? Friend Death, how now?
Why all this tedious pomp of writ?
Thou hast reclaimed it sure and slow
For half a century, bit by bit.In faith thou knowest more to-day
Than I do, where it can be found!
This shrivelled lump of suffering clay,
To which I now am chained and bound,Has not of kith or kin a trace...
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Written During Sickness, April, 1845
FAREWELL, life! my senses swim,
And the world is growing dim;
Thronging shadows cloud the light,
Like the advent of the night,—
Colder, colder, colder still,
Upward steals a vapor chill;
Strong the earthly odor grows,—
I smell the mold above the rose!Welcome, life! the spirit strives...
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Thank Heaven! the crisis,—
The danger is past,
And the lingering illness
Is over at last,—
And the fever called “Living”
Is conquered at last.Sadly, I know,
I am shorn of my strength,
And no muscle I move
As I lie at full length,—
But no matter!—I feel
I am better at length.And I...
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“He giveth his belovèd sleep.”
—PSALM cxxvii. 2.OF all the thoughts of God that are
Borne inward unto souls afar,
Among the Psalmist’s music deep,
Now tell me if that any is,
For gift or grace, surpassing this,—
“He giveth his belovèd sleep”?What would we give to our beloved?
The hero’s heart, to be unmoved,—... -
Fear death? to feel the fog in my throat,
The mist in my face,
When the snows begin, and the blasts denote
I am nearing the place,
The power of the night, the press of the storm,
The post of the foe;
Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form,
Yet the strong man must go:
For the journey is done and the summit...