Classic Poem

I

Could we but feel that our lost ones are near us, —
We in our darkness and they in their light, —
Could we but feel that they see us and hear us,
Ah, what a splendor would stream through the night!
How this great world, in its jubilant madness,
Hopeless no longer, nor vagrant nor blind,
Grandly would blaze through the heaven of gladness,
Spurning the cloud of its sorrow behind!

II

Still soars the jest to the echoing rafter,
Still the gay throng sparkles over the scene,
Still the sweet air is a ripple of laughter,
Red gleams the rose and the myrtle is green;
Still the lights flash and the trumpet is sounding,
Pennons are fluttered and banners unfurled, —
Where is the grace and the genius abounding
Once that redeemed and illumined the world?

III

Where are the hearts that were tenderly plighted,
Long years ago, in the kingdom of flowers?
Where are the hands that were fondly united?
Where are the eyes that looked love into ours?
Yesterday was it, that vainly we harken'd,
Hearing no longer the one cherished tone?
Yesterday was it, the heavens were darken'd,
Leaving us stricken, bewildered, and lone?

IV

Little by little the roof-tree is crumbled,
Slow from the branches the leaves drop away,
Year after year we are broken and humbled,
Nearing the desolate end of the play.
Red in the west, where the cloud-rack is scattered,
Lowers, defeated, the fugitive sun;
Dreary and cold, like the life it has shattered,
Night covers all, and our journey is done.

V

Is there no more, when this pageant is ended? ...
Here, where they slumber, the violet blows;
Here with the bird-note divinely are blended
Soul of the lily and heart of the rose!
What though the rage of the tempest may cover,
White with its anger, the shuddering plain, —
Soon will the kiss of its heavenly lover
Thrill it to verdure and beauty again.

VI

Ah, when we burst from this fettered existence,
Born into freedom and loosed into space,
How shall we spurn, at what infinite distance,
All that has bound us in earthly disgrace!
Who shall conceive what the soul may inherit!
Who shall declare the unspeakable bliss,
Regnant and safe, in that world, for the spirit
True to the right, through the trials of this!

VII

Dark for them, now, whom we hallow and honor,
Dark and forlorn is the stage that was theirs;
Peace, with the garment of silence upon her,
Broods o'er the dust of their sorrows and cares.
Low lie their heads with the clods of the valley;
Never again will they come at our call;
Vainly around their cold ashes we rally;
Quenched are the lights, and the curtain must fall.

VIII

Ends not this world in the night of denial!
Not for a grave were illumined the spheres!
Forward and far from this bondage and trial
Love reaps, in rapture, the harvest of tears.
Only for us is the pang of bereavement;
Theirs the same mission, yet more than the same, —
Loftier powers, and nobler achievement
Wrought with the music of sweeter acclaim!

IX

Labor and pain, that were never requited,
Passionate hope, that was never fulfilled,
Dreams and desires, that were baffled and blighted,
Pure aspirations, defeated and chilled,
Weary vicissitude, strife, and dejection, —
Fate gave them these, till it gave them release:
Here the great heart of a comrade affection
Gathers them home to the bosom of peace.

X

Hallowed be ever this dream-haunted haven;
Hallowed the shaft that we consecrate here!
Never may ominous pinion of raven
Herald the spectre oblivion near!
Sentinel roses, bloom faithful and tender!
Guardian heavens, smile lovingly down, —
Clouds in your sorrow, and stars in your splendor, —
Pouring the incense of deathless renown!

XI

Echoes of blessing, — from where, in our vision,
Hearts never falter and eyes never weep, —
Blown on wild winds from the mountains elysian,
Drift, in sweet requiems, over their sleep!
Lift up our souls, till with paeans and dirges
Merciful death shall at last set us free, —
There, where the moan of the infinite surges
Dies on the shore of eternity's sea!