Smile on thy mother! while she feels that unto her is given, In that young day-spring glance the pledge of a soul to rear for heaven! Smile! and sweet peace be o'er thy sleep, joy o'er thy wakening shed! Blessings and blessings evermore, fair boy! upon thy head! THE DEATH-SONG OF ALCESTIS. SHE came forth in her bridal robes array'd, Of its unutterable tenderness, Had burden'd her full soul. But now, oh! now, Its time was come-and from the spirit's depths, The passion and the mighty melody Of its immortal voice, in triumph broke, Like a strong rushing wind! The soft pure air Came floating through that hall-the Grecian air, Laden with music-flute-notes from the vales, THE DEATH-SONG OF ALCESTIS. Echoes of song-the last sweet sounds of life Borne on the battling waves of love and death, "I go, I go! Thou sun, thou golden sun, I go Far from thy light to dwell: 215 Thou shalt not find my place below, Dim is that world-bright sun of Greece, farewell! "The laurel and the glorious rose O'er the dark wave I haste from them and thee. "Yet doth my spirit faint to part? Joy, solemn joy, o'erflows my heart, "Let not a voice of weeping rise- Let the green earth and festal skies "For thee, for thee, my bosom's lord! Thee, my soul's loved! I die; Thine is the torch of life restored, Mine, mine the rapture, mine the victory! "Now may the boundless love, that lay In one consuming burst find way, "Thou know'st, thou know'st what love is now, Its glory and its might Are they not written on my brow? "No! deathless in thy faithful breast, Its own bright altar-place of rest, "Oh, the glad light!—the light is fair, And rich notes fill the scented air, And all are gifts-my love's last gifts to thee! THE HOME OF LOVE. 217 "Take me to thy warm heart once more! Joy is in every pang-I go, I go! "I feel thy tears, I feel thy breath, Keen is the strife of love and death; "Yet swells the tide of rapture strong, Though mists o'ershade mine eye! -Sing, Pæan! sing a conqueror's song! For thee, for thee, my spirit's lord, I die!" THE HOME OF LOVE. THOU mov'st in visions, love!-Around thy way, E'en through this world's rough path and changeful day, For ever floats a gleam, Not from the realms of moonlight or the morn, Love, shall I read thy dream?-oh! is it not Yes! lone and lowly is that home; yet there VOL. VI. 19 Something that mellows and that glorifies, E'en like the soft and spiritual glow, The very whispers of the wind have there And there thou dreamest of Elysian rest, There would'st thou watch the homeward step, whose sound Wakening all nature to sweet echoes round, There by the hearth should many a glorious page, From mind to mind the immortal heritage, For thee its treasures pour; Or music's voice at vesper hours be heard, And the rich unison of mingled prayer, |