Classic Poem

Slow moves the vast procession of the days;
Some, black as night, or lit with gladsome sun,
Well by the eye of voyager discerned
Cast backward through long avenues of time;
Most in dim retrospect not more divined
Than one mid myriad blades in distant fields.

Yet, mid dim crowds amassed in distant fields,
Some day mid myriad inconspicuous days
Commingled now, ere long to be divined,
With gifts, deep sunken as the Nadir's sun,
Hath peradventure, parting, trusted Time
To cherish till their hour to be discerned.

Day of dear promise not by me discerned,
Why cam'st thou bound amid the wintry fields
To briefest span of sun-illumined time,
Who longest, as most loved, should'st be of days?
Haply by summer's scent and song and sun
The blessing thou didst bear had been divined.
O had heart's instinct immanent divined,
Or eye's irradiating glance discerned!
As spire or column, smit by shaft of sun,
Flashes from far across the ample fields,
Fair hadst thou sparkled mid uncheerful days,
A diadem of light for wintry time.

But thou hast wended where the abyss of Time
Stores the dead hours, not more by me divined
Than any of the drear unfruitful days;
Till came thy child, and I in her discerned
Light as of starry flowers in heavenly fields,
In thee a light excelling summer's sun.

Child of mine too! by whom December's sun
Ouenches refulgent orbs of summer-time,
And hides with roses all the wintry fields.
The Past hath held thee as a hope divined;
The Present clasps thee as a bliss discerned;
By thee the Future gilds her promised days.

Days by the dawn of an immortal sun
Discerned, by ecstasy transcending Time
Divined, while yet I walk these earthly fields.