If yon bright stars which gem the night
Be each a blissful dwelling-sphere
Where kindred spirits reunite
Whom death hath torn asunder here,—
How sweet it were at once to die,
To leave this blighted orb afar!
Mixt soul and soul to cleave the sky,
And soar away from star to star.
But oh, how dark, how drear, how lone,...
How shall I know thee in the sphere which keeps
The disembodied spirits of the dead,
When all of thee that time could wither sleeps
And perishes among the dust we tread?
For I shall feel the sting of ceaseless pain
If there I meet thy gentle presence not;
Nor hear the voice I love, nor read again
In thy serenest eyes the tender...
Two worlds there are. To one our eyes we strain,
Whose magic joys we shall not see again;
Bright haze of morning veils its glimmering shore.
Ah, truly breathed we there
Intoxicating air—
Glad were our hearts in that sweet realm of
Nevermore.
The lover there drank her delicious breath
Whose love...
From “Festus,” Scene: “A Country Town”
FESTUS.— Oh! there is
A life to come, or all ’s a dream.
LUCIFER.— And all
May be a dream. Thou seest in thine, men, deeds,
Clear, moving, full of speech and order; then
Why may not all this world be but a dream
Of God’s? Fear not! Some morning God may waken....
TELL me, ye wingèd winds,
That round my pathway roar,
Do ye not know some spot
Where mortals weep no more?
Some lone and pleasant dell,
Some valley in the west,
Where, free from toil and pain,
The weary soul may rest?
The loud wind dwindled to a whisper low,
And sighed for pity as it answered,—“No...
From “Stars”
MORE and more stars! behold yon hazy arch
Spanning the vault on high,
By planets traversed in majestic march,
Seeming to earth’s dull eye
A breath of gleaming air: but take thou wing
Of Faith and upward spring:—
Into a thousand stars the misty light
Will part; each star a world with its own day and night....
Poets are singing the whole world over
Of May in melody, joys for June;
Dusting their feet in the careless clover,
And filling their hearts with the blackbird’s tune.
The “brown bright nightingale” strikes with pity
The sensitive heart of a count or clown;
But where is the song for our leafy city,
And where the rhymes for our...
THOU art the joy of age:
Thy sun is dear when long the shadow falls.
Forth to its friendliness the old man crawls,
And, like the bird hung in his poor cage
To gather song from radiance, in his chair
Sits by the door; and sitteth there
His soul within him, like a child that lies
Half dreaming, with half-open eyes,
At close of a...
To claim the Arctic came the sun
With banners of the burning zone.
Unrolled upon their airy spars,
They froze beneath the light of stars;
And there they float, those streamers old,
Those Northern Lights, forever cold!
A Wind came up out of the sea,
And said, “O mists, make room for me!”
It hailed the ships, and cried, “Sail on,
Ye mariners, the night is gone!”
And hurried landward far away,
Crying, “Awake! it is the day!”
It said unto the forest, “Shout!
Hang all your leafy banners out!”
It touched the wood-bird’s folded wing,
...
