FAR away in the Land of Morning, Where the Five Great Rivers flow, And the peaks of the great world-mountains Fling forward the sunrise glow, I've read that the mighty Hydaspes Runs, singing, o'er pebbles of gold: But not of the marvelous river My marvelous tale is told. There are times when the dark-skinned people— In many a home, it is said, Where some one has died—lay a banquet; The guests are their silent dead. Comes father, or mother, or brother, Or sister, or child, or wife; They all come back with the twilight To the oldtime happy life. Forgotten the long separation, Unheeded the cold night-rain; The rice is made ready; together They sit in one circle again: Till suddenly falls a silence; The ember has died on the stone; Vague shadows glide through the doorway; The living once more are alone. Oh, 't is not a meaningless story, Though wonderful; it is part Of the wild and infinite yearning, The unutterable cry in the heart, For the light of a face that has vanished, For a solace that never may be; And it shows how that far-away people Are kindred to you and to me. The calm and solemn Himalayas Rise heavenward, crowned with snow; Over all the land forever The Five Great Rivers go; And forever in homes of the people, Whatever their race or name, They keep their love and their sorrow Like us: it is just the same. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HOMERIC HEXAMETER [DESCRIBED AND EXEMPLIFIED] by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE FIDELIA: 4. THE AUTHOR'S RESOLUTION IN A SONNET by GEORGE WITHER EHEU, FUGACES! by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS A CHARACTER OF HIS FRIEND, W.B. ESQ by PHILIP AYRES POLAND by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |