WHERE is he! Does he never touch This old green earth he loved so much, Or see the golden leaves and red Whirled softly to their mossy bed From flaming branches overhead?— Where is he? Does he never hear The winds wail for the dying year, Or, leaning on some fern-grown wall, Dream, while the quiet shadows fall Until the darkness covers all? Where is he now, whose fancies played, Like laughing stream or leafy shade, Round those who in the glare of day, With much their courage to dismay, Trudged wearily life's dusty way?— Where is he? Many a time perplexed, With paths foregone his eyes were vexed, Ah, has death given him life's clue?— To us he still was kind and true; His friendship overbrimmed our due. Where is he?—And what is the goal?— God only knows: God rest his soul! Men count our sins, or, scornful, bless What seems to them our slight success: God knows the heart's own bitterness. And God is with him. God, who knew His whole life, will not misconstrue Some blotted words men roughly scanned In life's poor prose, but understand What poetry his soul had planned. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO SIR HENRY WOTTON (1) by JOHN DONNE THE FARMER'S BRIDE by CHARLOTTE MEW THE CRADLE OF THE DEEP by EMMA HART WILLARD THE RUNNER WITH THE LOTS by LEONIE ADAMS SAINT MAY: A CITY LYRIC by JOSEPH ASHBY-STERRY |