THE chord, the harp's full chord is hushed, The voice hath died away, Whence music, like sweet waters, gushed But yesterday. The awakening note, the breeze-like swell, The full o'ersweeping tone, The sounds that sighed "Farewell, farewell!" Are gone -- all gone! The love, whose fervent spirit passed With the rich measure's flow; The grief, to which it sank at last -- Where are they now? They are with the scents by summer's breath Borne from a rose now shed: With the words from lips long sealed in death -- Forever fled. The sea-shell of its native deep A moaning thrill retains; But earth and air no record keep Of parted strains. And all the memories, all the dreams, They woke in floating by; The tender thoughts, the Elysian gleams -- Could these too die? They died! As on the water's breast The ripple melts away, When the breeze that stirred it sinks to rest -- So perished they! Mysterious in their sudden birth, And mournful in their close, Passing, and finding not on earth Aim or repose. Whence were they! -- like the breath of flowers Why thus to come and go? A long, long journey must be ours Ere this we know. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GOOD NIGHT by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR UPON THE SAYING THAT MY VERSES WERE MADE BY ANOTHER by ANNE KILLIGREW THE MARSEILLAISE by CLAUDE JOSEPH ROUGET DE LISLE THE BATTLE AUTUMN OF 1862 by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER IN THE HOSPITAL by PATRICK JOHN MCALISTER ANDERSON THE ARGONAUTS (ARGONATUICA): MEDEA BETRAYED by APOLLONIUS RHODIUS MAY CELEBRANTS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |