XXVII. SURPRISED by joy-impatient as the Wind Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind- Have I been so beguiled as to be blind To my most grievous loss?-That thought's return Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more; XXVIII. I. METHOUGHT I saw the footsteps of a throne But all the steps and ground about were strown Sick, hale, old, young, who cried before that cloud, With her face up to heaven; that seemed to have XXIX. NOVEMBER, 1836. II. EVEN So for me a Vision sanctified The sway of Death; long ere mine eyes had seen No trace of pain or languor could abide That change:-age on thy brow was smoothed-thy cold Wan cheek at once was privileged to unfold A loveliness to living youth denied. Oh! if within me hope should ere decline, The lamp of faith, lost Friend! too faintly burn ; The bright assurance, visibly return : And let my spirit in that power divine Rejoice, as, through that power, it ceased to mourn. XXX. A FAIRER face of evening cannot be ; The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the Sea: And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thunder-everlastingly. Dear Child! dear Girl! that walkest with me here, Thy nature is not therefore less divine : XXXI. WHERE lies the Land to which yon Ship must go? Is she for tropic suns, or polar snow? What boots the inquiry?—Neither friend nor foe Ever before her, and a wind to blow. Yet still I ask, what haven is her mark? Is with me at thy farewell, joyous Bark! |