THE TWO VOICES. Two solemn Voices, in a funeral strain, Met as rich sunbeams and dark bursts of rain Meet in the sky: "Thou art gone hence!" one sang; flown, "Our light is Our beautiful, that seem'd too much our own, Ever to die! "Thou art gone hence!-our joyous hills among Never again to pour thy soul in song, When spring-flowers rise! Never the friend's familiar step to meet With loving laughter, and the welcome sweet "Thou art gone home, gone home!" then, high and clear, Warbled that other Voice: "Thou hast no tear Again to shed. Never to fold the robe o'er secret pain, Never, weigh'd down by Memory's clouds, again To bow thy head. "Thou art gone home! oh! early crown'd and blest! Where could the love of that deep heart find rest With aught below? Thou must have seen rich dream by dream decay, All the bright rose-leaves drop from life away Thrice blest to go!" Yet sigh'd again that breeze-like Voice of grief"Thou art gone hence! alas! that aught so brief, So loved should be! Thou tak'st our summer hence!-the flower, the tone, The music of our being, all in one, Depart with thee! "Fair form, young spirit, morning vision fled! Canst thou be of the dead, the awful dead? The dark unknown? Yes! to the dwelling where no footsteps fall, Never again to light up hearth or hall, Thy smile is gone!" "Home, home!" once more th' exulting Voice arose : "Thou art gone home! from that divine repose Never to roam ! Never to say farewell, to weep in vain, To read of change, in eyes beloved, again— Thou art gone home ! 66 By the bright waters now thy lot is cast,— Joy for thee, happy friend! thy bark hath past The rough sea's foam! Now the long yearnings of thy soul are still'd, Home! home!—thy peace is won, thy heart is fill'd. -Thou art gone home!" THE PARTING SHIP. A glittering ship that hath the plain Of ocean for her own domain. WORDSWORTH. Go, in thy glory, o'er the ancient sea, Take with thee gentle winds thy sails to swell; Sunshine and joy upon thy streamers be,— Proudly the flashing billow thou hast cleft, The breeze yet follows thee with cheer and song ; Who now of storms hath dream or memory left? And yet the deep is strong! |