XXVII. SURPRISED by joy-impatient as the Wind Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind- Have I been so beguiled as to be blind To my most grievous loss ?-That thought's return Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more; Could to my sight that heavenly face restore. XXVIII. I. METHOUGHT I Saw the footsteps of a throne But all the steps and ground about were strown Sick, hale, old, young, who cried before that cloud, With her face up to heaven; that seemed to have A lovely Beauty in a summer grave! XXIX. NOVEMBER, 1836. II. EVEN SO for me a Vision sanctified The sway of Death; long ere mine eyes had seen That change:-age on thy brow was smoothed-thy cold A loveliness to living youth denied. Oh! if within me hope should e'er decline, The lamp of faith, lost Friend! too faintly burn; The bright assurance, visibly return : And let my spirit in that power divine Rejoice, as, through that power, it ceased to mourn. XXX. It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the Sea: And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thunder-everlastingly. Dear Child! dear Girl! that walkest with me here. If thou appear untouched by solemn thought, Thy nature is not therefore less divine : WHERE lies the Land to which yon Ship must go? Is she for tropic suns, or polar snow? What boots the inquiry ?-Neither friend nor foe She cares for; let her travel where she may, Ever before her, and a wind to blow. Yet still I ask, what haven is her mark? Is with me at thy farewell, joyous Bark! |