Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, COMMENCEMENT POEM: 4, by EDWARD ROWLAND SILL


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

COMMENCEMENT POEM: 4, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Here at last to part - the darkness lying
Last Line: Shall be gathered at our father's feet.
Alternate Author Name(s): Hedbrooke, Andrew
Subject(s): Commencement


1

Here at last to part -- the darkness lying
In that parting not as yet we know;
Like a child who sees his father dying,
With a vague, half-wondering sense of woe.

2

As, when some Beloved has departed,
In the after years, unfelt before,
Haunting wishes vex the heavy-hearted, --
"Would to God that we had loved him more!"

3

So we, o'er these buried years low-bending,
Shall regret each lightest cause of pain,
Trivial hurts in silent heartaches ending,
Till we sigh, "Would we might live again!"

4

All our foolish pride and willful blindness,
Darkening round us like a cloud of dust,
Careless scorn, where should have been all kindness,
Cold suspicion in the place of trust,

5

Many a word we might have left unspoken,
Many a deed that should have been undone,
Shall reproach us from each treasured token
With a separate sting for every one.

6

When the world is heavy on our shoulders,
And the heart is fretted with its care, --
When the glory of ambition moulders,
And our load seems more than we can bear, --

7

When the days and nights, like shuttles weaving
In a senseless loom, pass to and fro,
Sombre hues in faded patterns leaving
On the woof of life that lies below,

8

Through the dim, long years old forms will glimmer,
Ghostly lips will haunt us with their tone,
Kind eyes will look forth, and seem the dimmer
For the memories brimming in their own.

9

We go forth, like children in the morning
Scattering to spend the summer hours, --
Some their brows with laurel wreaths adorning,
Some to saunter through a field of flowers;

10

One to lose his way, and wander, straying,
Till the twilight, frighted and alone, --
One, it may be, weary with his playing,
Wending home his footsteps ere the noon.

11

But whatever fate to us is given,
All, when day is done, again shall meet,
And at night-fall, 'neath the stars of heaven,
Shall be gathered at our Father's feet.





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