THE river drags across the plain Its winding line of black; But far above I see again The ever shining track. O silent dead, O happy souls, I dare not call you back! Before my eyes a vision drew Like sunlight out of space; I fancied in the shadow grew One dear familiar face,— I felt a breath, I heard a voice Of infinite sweet grace. Beat not so loud, O heart of mine, Be calm, O wandering will, The wind is past, the talking pine Hath whispered and is still. All here is as the marbles are That glimmer on the hill. But, lo, the singing tides above Grow full and do not slack; There mind has light, and heart has love, With never stint or lack. Life bears me thither, silent dead; I will not call you back! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SURFACES AND MASKS; 2 by CLARENCE MAJOR UNTO US A SON IS GIVEN by ALICE MEYNELL THE LOW-DOWN WHITE by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE BEAUREGARD by CATHERINE ANNE WARFIELD ANDROMEDA by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH LOST ART by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE FADELESS CANVAS by CHARLOTTE LOUISE BERTLESEN |