Classic Poem

Lines WRITTEN IN Memory OF P HILIP B OURKE M ARSTON

This time last year, the sun and stars and sea,
Which thou seeing not didst love, saw and loved thee;
The world thou couldst not see beheld thee, friend:

We saw the sightless eyes that saw no light, —
To whom bright midday was eternal night,
And moonlit clear skies moonless to the end.

All things that heard thy song, rejoiced to hear;
Thy singing made our dreary world less drear;
Thou through thy darkness led'st us to the light:

And yet that light thou sawest not. Even the sea
That spake so many a wondrous word to thee
Was never blue, the white rose was not white,

The storm-cloud was not dark, the sky not fair,
Nor golden-bright the flame-filled sunset air
For thee, save only through thy sightless dream:

Thou sawest not aught. Yet all things saw thee, friend;
The stars and blossoms loved thee to the end;
The blue sea loved thee, and the silver stream.

*****

And now, perchance — we know not — it may be —
Thou dost behold in turn our poor blind sea
That fails to apprehend thee where thou art:

'Tis we who are blind to-day, — yes, every one.
Blind are our stars, our moonbeams, and our sun;
Blind are our daisies with the golden heart.

We cannot see thee. We are left in turn
With loving souls and sightless eyes that yearn
Towards that far land wherein thy foot has trod;

Not yet can we behold what thou hast seen;
Thou see'st us, it may be; perhaps dost lean
Above our struggles like a helpful god.

We know not. All is darkness where thou art.
And yet, O poet with the true deep heart,
Darkness to us may be strange light to thee;

Thou who wast blind on earth mayest now behold
Heaven's sky from east to west aflame with gold,
Immortal morning on a deathless sea.