Classic Poem

Once a man set forth at morning,
Journeying with eager footstep,
Onward over fields new-wakened,
Where the dew lay on the blossoms,
Like to softly gleaming opals.

All the earth, refreshed by slumber,
In the early light and tender
Wore a green, benignant beauty;
And his heart sang high within him,
As the birds sang in the branches.

On he sped with fond impatience, —
While the world took on new wonder, —
Till he came unto a river
Where there waiting stood an angel,
Dark-browed, but with look celestial.

Then, appalled, the pilgrim started: —
" Death! Awaitest thou my coming —
Here where least I thought to meet thee?
It is Love that I am seeking!"

Very gently smiled the angel,
Dark-browed, with the look celestial:
" I am Love, — thyself hast named me;
Yet thou fearest! Lo! I leave thee,
Till as now, thou come to find me."
. . . . . . . . . . .

Once again the man, at sunrise,
Journeyed forth, — his step less buoyant, —
Passing over fields new-wakened,
Where the dew lay on the blossoms
Like to softly gleaming opals.

Once again Earth, fresh from slumber,
In the early light and tender
Wore her green and mystic beauty;
Yet his heart sang not within him
As the birds sang in the branches.

Onward still, without impatience,
Through a world whose charm half pained him,
Journeying, — behold! — the river
And the long-forgotten angel —
Dark-browed, with the look celestial!

As of old, the pilgrim started,
And his pale cheek flushed with anger:
" Death, thy pledge! Thou hast betrayed me!
Naught have I and thou in common:
It is Life that I am seeking!"

With transfiguring smile the angel,
Whose whole look now showed celestial,
Answered: — " Is it Life thou seekest?
Be at rest, thou weary pilgrim!
Seek no further: thou hast found me."