HE face which, duly as the sun, To mark all bright hours of the day With hourly love, is dimmed away, And yet my days go on, go on. The tongue which, like a stream, could run The heart which, like a staff, was one 202 DE PROFUNDIS. The strongest on the longest day With steadfast love, is caught away,— The world goes whispering to its own, Breath freezes on my lips to moan: I sit and knock at Nature's door, I knock and cry," Undone, undone!" This Nature, though the snows be down, DE PROFUNDIS. The little red hip on the tree Is ripe for such. What is for me, Whose days so winterly go on? I ask less kindness to be done,- Only to lift the turf unmown From off the earth where it has grown, Some cubit-space, and say, " Behold, Creep in, poor Heart, beneath that fold, ·Forgetting how the days go on." What harm would that do? Green anon The sward would quicken, overshone While my new rest went on, went on. -A Voice reproves me thereupon, More sweet than Nature's when the drone 203 2C4 DE PROFUNDIS. Of bees is sweetest, and more deep Than when the rivers overleap The shuddering pines, and thunder on. God's Voice, not Nature's! Night and noon He sits upon the great white throne What babble we of days and days? He reigns above, He reign. alone ; He reigns below, He reigns alone, By anguish which made pale the sun, DE PROFUNDIS. Among His creatures anywhere Blaspheme against Him with despair, Take from my head the thorn-wreath brown! No mortal grief deserves that crown. O supreme Love, chief Misery, The sharp regalia are for THEE, Whose days eternally go on! For us, whatever undergone, Thou knowest, willest what is done. Whatever's lost, it first was won: 205 That Heaven's new wine might show more clear, I praise Thee while my days go on. I praise Thee while my days go on ; |