STILL watching near the swards of Eden, And eager there to catch a glimpse Of that immortal light that guards The open gates of life, the heart, Complaining of its saddened lot, Will cry for time, and tempting makes The very gods its bitter enemies, To find its spirit driven thence alone, To toil in utter darkness and despair. The spoils of many working years will not Requite its sufferings, nor cure The wounds that mar its final peace. But are they cruel wounds that keep the soul From casting its pure hopes into the lap Of fortune and her wayward wilful joys? But may not happiness come in the suit Of duty and of goodness, or the toils Wherein the pensive sadness and its tears Will give fruition in Elysian fields. Only one alembic, then, can cleanse and join In one harmonious symphony the tides Of joy and sorrow in our warring lives, The glowing love that holds in melting arms And grasp all human interest and pain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WHITE CASCADE by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES INDEPENDENCE by HENRY DAVID THOREAU PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 53. ALLAH-AL-WAKIL by EDWIN ARNOLD FIRST CYCLE OF LOVE POEMS: 1 by GEORGE BARKER NO SORROW PECULIAR TO THE SUFFERER by VINCENT BOURNE TO EDWARD NOEL LONG, ESQ. by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |