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A sudden rush from the stairway,
A sudden raid from the hall !
They enter my castle wall !
O’er the arms and back of my
They seem to be everywhere.
Their arms about me entwine,
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine !
Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti,
Because you have scaled the wall,
Is not a match for you all !
And will not let you depart,
In the round-tower of my heart.
Yes, forever and a day,
And moulder in dust away!
Out of the belona-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the woodlands brown and bare,
Silent, and soft, and slow
A DAY OF SUNSHINE.
Even as our cloudy. fancies take
Suddenly shape in some divine expression,
The troubled sky reveals
This is the poem of the air,
Slowly in silent syllables recorded ;
Now whispered and revealed
A DAY OF SUNSHINE.
GIFT of God! O perfect day :
Whereon shall no man work, but play;
Through every fibre of my brain,
I hear the wind among the trees
And over me unrolls on high
Towards yonder cloud-land in the West,
Blow, winds! and waft through all the rooms
O Life and Love! O happy throng
SOMETHING LEFT UNDONE.
Something still remains undone,
Waits the rising of the sun.
By the bedside, on the stair,
At the threshold, near the gates,
Like a mendicant it waits ;
Waits, and will not go away;
Waits, and will not be gainsaid ;
Each to-day is heavier made ;
Till at length the burden seems
Greater than our strength can bear,
Pressing on us everywhere.
And we stand from day to day,
Like the dwarfs of times gone by, Who, as Northern legends say,
On their shoulders held the sky.
LITTLE feet! that such long years
Must wander on through hopes and fears,
Am weary, thinking of your road !
O little hands! that, weak or strong,
Have still so long to give or ask;
Am weary, thinking of your task.
O little hearts ! that throb and beat
Such limitless and strong desires ;
Now covers and conceals its fires.
O little souls ! as pure and white
Direct from heaven, their source divine;
How lurid looks this soul of mine!