Oldalképek
PDF
ePub

THE OLD CLOCK ON THE STAIRS.

SOMEWHAT back from the village street
Stands the old-fashion'd country-seat.
Across its antique portico

Tall poplar trees their shadows throw:
And from its station in the hall
An ancient timepiece says to all,—
"Forever-never!

Never-forever!"

Halfway up the stairs it stands,

And points and beckons with its hands

From its case of massive oak,

Like a monk, who, under his cloak,
Crosses himself, and sighs, alas !

With sorrowful voice to all who pass,

[ocr errors]

Forever-never!

Never-forever!"

By day its voice is low and light;
But in the silent dead of night,
Distinct as a passing footstep's fall,
It echoes along the vacant hall,
Along the ceiling, along the floor,

And seems to say, at each chamber-door,

[ocr errors][merged small]

Through days of sorrow and of mirth, Through days of death and days of birth, Through every swift vicissitude

Of changeful time, unchanged it has stood,

And as if, like God, it all things saw,
It calmly repeats those words of awe,—
"Forever-never!

Never-forever!"

In that mansion used to be
Free-hearted Hospitality;

His great fires up the chimney roar'd;
The stranger feasted at his board;
But, like the skeleton at the feast,
That warning timepiece never ceased,—
"Forever-never!

Never-forever!"

There groups of merry children play'd,
There youths and maidens dreaming stray'd;
O precious hours! O golden prime,
And affluence of love and time!

Even as a miser counts his gold,

Those hours the ancient timepiece told,—

"Forever-never!

Never-forever!"

From that chamber, clothed in white,
The bride came forth on her wedding-night;
There, in that silent room below,

The dead lay in his shroud of snow;
And in the hush that follow'd the prayer,
Was heard the old clock on the stair,-

"Forever-never!

Never-forever!"

All are scatter'd now and fled,
Some are married, some are dead;
And when I ask with throbs of pain,
"Ah! when shall they all meet again,"
As in the days long since gone by,
The ancient timepiece makes reply,—
"Forever-never!

Never-forever!"

Never here, forever there,

Where all parting, pain, and care,
And death, and time shall disappear,-
Forever there, but never here!

The horologe of Eternity

Sayeth this incessantly,

"Forever-never!

Never-forever!

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFellow.

LOOK ALOFT.

IN the tempest of life, when the wave and the gale
Are around and above, if thy footing should fail,
If thine eye should grow dim, and thy caution de-

part,

"Look aloft," and be firm, and be fearless of heart.

If the friend, who embraced in prosperity's glow, With a smile for each joy and a tear for each woe,

Should betray thee when sorrows like clouds are array'd,

"Look aloft" to the friendship which never shall fade.

Should the visions which hope spreads in light to thine eye,

Like the tints of the rainbow, but brighten to fly, Then turn, and, through tears of repentant regret, "Look aloft to the sun that is never to set.

Should they who are dearest, the son of thy heart, The wife of thy bosom, in sorrow depart,

66

Look aloft" from the darkness and dust of the

tomb,

To that soil where "affection is ever in bloom."

And, O! when death comes in his terrors to cast
His fears on the future, his pall on the past,
In that moment of darkness, with hope in thy
heart,

And a smile in thine eye, "look aloft," and depart!

JONATHAN Lawrence.

THE WAYSIDE WELL.

He stopped at the wayside well,

Where the water was cool and deep;

There were feathery ferns 'twixt the mossy stones, And gray was the old well-sweep.

He left his carriage alone,

Nor could coachman or footman tell

Why the master stopped in the dusty road
To drink at the wayside well.

He swayed with his gloved hands

The well-sweep, creaking and slow,

While from seam and scar in the bucket's side

The water plashed back below.

He lifted it to the curb,

And bent to the bucket's brim;

No furrows of time or care had marked

The face that looked back at him.

He saw but a farmer's boy

As he stooped o'er the brim to drink,

And ruddy and tanned was the laughing face
That met his over the brink.

The eyes were sunny and clear,

And the brow undimmed by care,

While from under the rim of the old straw hat Strayed curls of chestnut hair.

He turned away with a sigh ;

Nor could footman or coachman tell

Why the master stopped in his ride that day

To drink at the wayside well.

WALTER Learned.

« ElőzőTovább »