網頁圖片
PDF
ePub 版

vi.
His face is growing sharp and thin.
Alack ! our friend is gone.
Close up his eyes : tie up his chin :
Step from the corpse, and let him in
That standeth there alone,

And waiteth at the door.
There's a new foot on the floor, my friend,
And a new face at the door, my friend,
A new face at the door.

TO J. S.

The wind, that beats the mountain, blows

More softly round the open wold, And gently comes the world to those

That are cast in gentle mould.

And me this knowledge bolder made,

Or else I had not dared to flow
In these words toward you, and invade

Even with a verse your holy woe.

III. 'Tis strange that those we lean on most,

Those in whose laps our limbs are nursed, Fall into shadow, soonest lost :

Those we love first are taken first.

IV.

God gives us love. Something to love

He lends us ; but, when love is grown To ripeness, that on which it throve

Falls off, and love is left alone.

This is the curse of time. Alas !

In grief I am not all unlearn'd; Once thro’ mine own doors Death did pass ;

One went, who never hath return'd.

VI.

He will not smile-not speak to me

Once more. Two years his chair is seen Empty before us. That was he

Without whose life I had not been.

VII.

Your loss is rarer; for this star

Rose with you thro' a little arc Of heaven, nor having wander'd far

Shot on the sudden into dark.

VIII.

I knew your brother : his mute dust

I honour and his living worth : A man more pure and bold and just

Was never born into the earth.

[ocr errors]

I have not look'd upon you nigh

Since that dear soul hath fall’n asleep. Great Nature is more wise than I :

I will not tell you not to weep.

X.

And though mine own eyes fill with dew,

Drawn from the spirit thro' the brain, I will not even preach to you,

“Weep, weeping dulls the inward pain.”

XI.

Let Grief be her own mistress still.

She loveth her own anguish deep More than much pleasure. Let her will

Be done—to weep or not to weep.

XII.

I will not say “God's ordinance

Of Death is blown in every wind ; ” For that is not a common chance

· That takes away a noble mind.

[ocr errors][ocr errors]

His memory long will live alone

In all our hearts, as mournful light That broods above the fallen sun,

And dwells in heaven half the night.

XIV.

Vain solace ! Memory standing near

Cast down her eyes, and in her throat Her voice seem'd distant, and a tear

Dropt on my tablets as I wrote.

xv.

I wrote I know not what. In truth,

How should I soothe you anyway, Who miss the brother of your youth ?

Yet something I did wish to say :

« 上一頁繼續 »