LYRICAL AND DRAMATIC. 163
Amid the mob, to lift my cross, to share
Its burden : not one friend
- Whose love were silence, whose affection knows
To press my hand and close my dying eyes
There, at the endless end.
I am alone on earth, and from the skies
Sometimes I seem so far—and yet, thy kiss
Re-quickens Hope ; through zther’s emptiness
Thou guidest me to touch the Hand of Him who Is
Thou hadst a torch to lume my lips to song ;
Thou hast a cooler fountain for my thirst,
Lest my young love should work thy fame a wrong ;
So the grape’s veins in purple ardour burst,
And opiates in bloomless gardens throng,
And Life, a moon, wanes fast;
But to thy garden richer buds belong
And hardier flowers, and Love, a deathless sun,
Flames eager to the last,
And young desires in fleeter revels run,
And Life revives, and all the flowers rejoice,
Bird and light butterfly have made their choice,
Creation hymns its God with an united voice.
There is a storm without. The hoary trees
Stagger, the foam is angry on the sea :
I know the secret mountains are at ease,
And in the deepest ice-embroidery
Where great men’s spirits linger there is peace.
Heed not the unquiet wind ;