Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, FUTURITY, by WILLIAM HERBERT (1778-1847)


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

FUTURITY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Say, when the spirit fleets away
Last Line: The unconscious form and lifeless clay.
Subject(s): Future Life; Retribution; Eternity; After Life


SAY, when the spirit fleets away
From its frail house of mortal clay,
When the cold limbs to earth return,
Or rest in proudly sculptur'd urn,
Does still oblivion quench the fire
That warm'd the heart with chaste desire?
Do all our fond affections lie
Buried in dark eternity?
Or may the souls of those we love
In darkness oft around us move,
Drawn back by faithful thoughts to earth,
Haunt the dear scenes that gave them birth,
And still of former ties aware,
Float on the gently sighing air?
It may not be, a flame so bright
Should ever sink in endless night;
And if, when fails the transient breath,
The soul can spurn the bonds of death,
Love's gentle spirit ne'er shall die,
But dove-like with it mount the sky!
Oh, 't is not sure the poet's dream,
Sweet fancy's visionary theme.
Where'er the fleeting soul shall go,
Still will our pure affections glow,
Though life's frail thoughts are past and vain,
The sense of good must still remain,
And death, that conquers all, shall ne'er
From the delighted spirit tear
The memory of a mother's care!
That fond remembrance still shall cling
In heaven to life's immortal spring!
And thou, whose bright and cherish'd form,
Clasp'd to his heart with rapture warm,
Oft wakes the humble poet's eye
To more than mortal ecstasy,
Whose blooming cherubs, fresh as May,
In harmless sport around him play,
Say, does he dream! shall joy like this
Pass as a shadowy scene of bliss?
Or, when that beauteous shape shall fade,
And his cold tongue in dust be laid,
Shall the fond spirits ever glow
With love together link'd as now?
It is not false! Love's subtle fire
Shall live, though mortal limbs expire:
E'en now from heaven's ethereal height
Hialmar turns his wistful sight,
To Sigtune's towers, where, bathed in tears,
Mid anxious hopes and throbbing fears,
He sees the lovely mourner lie
With pallid cheek and languid eye.
Ne'er shall her bold victorious lord
Return to breathe the blissful word;
By Samsoe's rocks his body lies,
To love a bleeding sacrifice:
And pensive there, though aid is vain.
And past the poignant throb of pain,
Friendship bends sadly to survey
The unconscious form and lifeless clay.





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