EPILOGUE.

TO MARY ON EARTH.

1.

So! now the task is ended; and to-night,
Sick, impotent, no longer soul-sustain'd,
Withdrawing eyes from that ideal height
Where, in low undertones, those Spirits plain'd,
Each full of special glory unattain'd,—

I turn on you, Sweet-Heart, my weary sight.-
Shut out the darkness, shutting in the light:
So now the task is ended.

What is gain'd?

2.

First, sit beside me. Place your hand in mine.

From deepest fountain of your veins the while

1

Call up your Soul; and briefly let it shine
In those grey eyes with mildness feminine.
Yes, smile, Dear!—you are truest when you

smile.

3.

My heart to-night is calm as peaceful dreams.-
Afar away the wind is shrill, the culver

Blows up and down the moors with windy gleams,
The birch unlooseneth her locks of silver

And shakes them softly on the mountain streams,
And o'er the grave that holds my David's dust
The Moon uplifts her empty dripping horn :
Thither my fancies turn, but turn in trust,

Not wholly sadly, faithful though forlorn.

For you, too, love him, mourn his life's quick fleeting;

We think of him in common. Is it so ?

Your little hand has answer'd, and I know

His name makes music in your heart's soft beating; And well, 'tis something gain'd for him and me

Him, in his heaven, and me, in this low spot,

Something his eyes will see, and joy to see

That you, too, love him, though you knew him not.

Yet this is bitter.

4.

We were boy and boy,

Hand link'd in hand we dreamt of power and fame,
We shared each other's sorrow, pride, and joy,

To one wild tune our swift blood went and came,
Eyes drank each other's hope with flash of flame.
Then, side by side, we clomb the hill of life,

We ranged thro' mist and mist, thro' storm and strife;
But then, it is so bitter, now, to feel

That his pale Soul to mine was so akin,
Firm-fix'd on goals we each set forth to win,
So twinly conscious of the sweet Ideal,
So wedded (God forgive me if I sin !)

That neither he, my friend, nor I could steal
One glimpse of heaven's divinities—alone,
And flushing seek his brother, and reveal
Some hope, some joy, some beauty, else unknown ;
Nor, bringing down his sunlight from the Sun,
Call sudden up, to light his fellow's face,

A smile as proud, as glad, as that I trace

In

your dear eyes, now, when my work is done.

5.

Love gains in giving. What had I to give
Whereof his Poet-Soul was not possest?

What gleams of stars he knew not, fugitive
As lightning-flashes, could I manifest?

What music fainting in a clearer air?

What lights of sunrise from beyond the grave?

What pride in knowledge that he could not share ?—

Ay, Mary, it is bitter; for I swear

He took with him, to heav'n, no wealth gave.

6.

No, Love, it is not bitter! Thoughts like those

Were sin these songs I sing you must adjust.
Not bitter, ah, not bitter!-God is just ;
And, seeing our one-knowledge, just God chose,
By one swift stroke, to part us. Far above
The measure of my hope, my pride, my love,

He, like an exhalation, thus arose

Above our seasons, suns and rains and snows,

Hearing in a diviner atmosphere

Music we only see, when, dewy and dim,

The stars thro' gulfs of azure darkness swim,
Music I seem to see, but cannot hear.
But evermore, my Poet, on his height,
Fills up my Soul with sweetness to the brim,
Rains influence, and warning, and delight;
And now, I smile for pride and joy in him!

7.

I said, Love gains by giving. And to know
That I, who could not glorify my Friend,
Soul of my Soul, although I loved him so,
Have power and strength and privilege to lend
Glimpses of heav'n to Thee, of hope, of bliss!
Power to go heavenward, pluck flowers and blend
Their hues in wreaths I give you with a kiss-
You, Love, who climb not up the heights at all!
To think, to think, I never could upcall

On his dead face, so proud a smile as this!

8.

Most just is God: who bids me not be sad
For his dear sake whose name is dear to thee,