Classic Poem

I

Often and often, when the days were dark
And, whether to remember or behold,
Life was a burden, and my heart, grown old
With sorrow, scarce was conscious, did I mark
How, from thy distant place across the sea,
Vibrant with hope and with emotion free,
Thy voice of cheer rose like the morning lark, —
And that was comfort if not joy to me!
For in the weakness of our human grief
The mind that does not break and will not bend
Teaches endurance as the one true friend,
The steadfast anchor and the sure relief.
That was thy word, and what thy precept taught
Thy life made regnant in one living thought.

II

Thy vision saw the halo of romance
Round every common thing that men behold.
Thy lucid art could turn to precious gold, —
Like roseate motes that in the sunbeams dance, —
Whatever object met thy kindling glance;
And in that mirror life was never cold.
A gracious warmth suffused thy sparkling page,
And woman's passionate heart by thee was drawn,
With all the glorious colors of the dawn,
Against the background of this pagan age, —
Her need of love, her sacrifice, her trance
Of patient pain, her weary pilgrimage!
Thou knewest all of grief that can be known,
And didst portray all sorrows but thine own.

III

Where shall I turn, now that thy lips are dumb,
And night is on those eyes that loved me well?
What other voice, across thy dying knell,
With like triumphant notes of power will come?
Alas! my ravaged heart is still and numb
With thinking of the blank that must remain!
Yet be it mine, amid these wastes of pain,
Where all must falter and where many sink,
To stay the foot of misery on the brink
Of dark despair, to bid blind sorrow see, —
Teaching that human will breaks every chain
When once endurance sets the spirit free;
And, living thus thy perfect faith, to think
I am to others what thou wert to me!