Classic Poem

Now she lies here, dead before you,
Motionless and gray as stone;
Now the cruel grief broods o'er you,
Stricken, agonized, and lone;
Now that passion's dream is past,
Well it is we meet at last!

Ay, you loved her, loved her truly,
With the utmost faith of man;
Sacrificing all things duly,
As a noble lover can!
And she made you, — what I see;
What 'tis well that you can be.

Loved her! Virtue, truth, and honor,
Sense, and manhood, — what are they?
Stand up here and look upon her!
'Tis a pretty piece of clay.
Others, quite as fond and true,
Loved her, quite as well as you.

So I pity you, poor dreamer
(Dreams, the longest, are not long),
And I would not make it seem her
Guilt, that e'er she did me wrong.
She was heavenly, — cloud and star, —
She was what the angels are.

Hope and wait; and when you meet her,
With them, in the Eden plain,
Clasp her to your soul and greet her
With a word of noble pain.
Tell her, in yon starry cope,
That I taught you how to hope.

Time and tide flow on forever;
Pleasure's ghost is always pain;
Life is fevered with endeavor,
Sad with loss and sweet with gain;
But there is no certain bliss
In this world for only this.

Look up bravely where, forgiven,
Erring hearts repentant rest:
Only love and trust find heaven!
Still the faithful are the blest:
Faithful love, that ransoms you,
Well may save your idol, too.

But for me there is no morrow,
Crown of love nor crown of fame:
I must tread a mighty sorrow
In the mire of sensual shame.
Down I grovel on the earth,
Wasting toward a brutish birth.

'Tis a world of commonplaces,
Empty hearts and shallow brains,
Flaunting fools with specious faces,
Black desires and crimson stains:
When I found that heart untrue,
Love itself was falsehood, too.

Always round us are the curses,
And the long, tumultuous roar:
We are jostled in our hearses,
Even as we were before,
They alone escape the strife
Who attain the spirit's life.

Hope, I say, till you receive her;
Hope, — for we are only men.
Lay her in the grave, and leave her
Just your heart, to keep till then.
Take my blessing — for I know
All your love and all your woe.