But I feel that I am only Yet more sad, and yet more lonely! Then I turn to blue-eyed Hope, And beg of her that she will ope Her golden gates for me; She is fair and full of grace, But she hath the form and face Of her mother Memory ; Clear as air her glad voice ringeth, Joyous are the songs she singeth, They are songs her mother taught her, As she lay upon her knee. Many little ones she bore me, Woe is me! in by-gone hours, Who danced along and sang before me, Scattering my way with flowers; One by one They are gone, And their silent graves are seen, But, when sweet Memory faileth, And summer sunlight weary, And sweetest things uncheery, We know not why; When the crown of our desires Weighs upon the brow and tires, And we would die, Die for, ah! we know not what, Something we seem to have forgot, Something we had, and now have not; When the present is a weight And the future seems our foe, And with shrinking eyes we wait, In the dark, he knows not whence; That lends him such a living grace, Wherewith we have decked his bier, When we feel a leaden sense Of nothingness and impotence, Till we grow mad, Then the body saith, "There 's but one true faith; All things are sad!" A LOVE-DREAM. PLEASANT thoughts come wandering, A very peaceful ecstasy, A feeling of eternal spring; Every thing but that thou art, And, in his bewildered heart, Or those bluer flowers that ope, Flowers of steadfast love and hope, Watered by the living wells Of memories dear, and dearer prophecies, Where young Spring for ever dwells In the sunshine of thine eyes. I have most holy dreams of thee, All night I have such dreams; And, when I wake, reality No whit the darker seems; Through the twin gates of Hope and Memory They pour in crystal streams From out an angel's calmèd eyes, Who, from twilight till sunrise, Far away in the upper deep, Poised upon his shining wings, Over us his watch doth keep, Through the still night I hear him sing, Down-looking on our sleep; I hear his clear, clear harp-strings ring, And, as the golden notes take wing, Gently downward hovering, For very joy I weep ; |