Legends and Lyrics-2 [4]
in some far distance seem,
May be the truer life, and this the dream.
VERSE: ENVY
He was the first always: Fortune
Shone bright in his face.
I fought for years; with no effort
He conquered the place:
We ran; my feet were all bleeding,
But he won the race.
Spite of his many successes
Men loved him the same;
My one pale ray of good fortune
Met scoffing and blame.
When we erred, they gave him pity,
But me--only shame.
My home was still in the shadow,
His lay in the sun:
I longed in vain: what he asked for
It straightway was done.
Once I staked all my heart's treasure,
We played--and he won.
Yes; and just now I have seen him,
Cold, smiling, and blest,
Laid in his coffin. God help me!
While he is at rest,
I am cursed still to live:- even
Death loved him the best.
VERSE: OVER THE MOUNTAIN
Like dreary prison walls
The stern grey mountains rise,
Until their topmost crags
Touch the far gloomy skies:
One steep and narrow path
Winds up the mountain's crest,
And from our valley leads
Out to the golden West.
I dwell here in content,
Thankful for tranquil days;
And yet, my eyes grow dim,
As still I gaze and gaze
Upon that mountain pass,
That leads--or so it seems -
To some far happy land,
Known in a world of dreams.
And as I watch that path
Over the distant hill,
A foolish longing comes
My heart and soul to fill,
A painful, strange desire
To break some weary bond,
A vague unuttered wish
For what might lie beyond!
In that far world unknown,
Over that distant hill,
May dwell the loved and lost,
Lost--yet beloved still;
I have a yearning hope,
Half longing, and half pain,
That by that mountain pass
They may return again.
Space may keep friends apart,
Death has a mighty thrall;
There is another gulf
Harder to cross than all;
Yet watching that far road,
My heart beats full and fast -
If they should come once more,
If they should come at last!
See, down the mountain side
The silver vapours creep;
They hide the rocky cliffs.
They hide the craggy steep,
They hide the narrow path
That comes across the hill -
Oh, foolish longing, cease,
Oh, beating Heart, be still!
VERSE: BEYOND
We must not doubt, or fear, or dread, that love for life is only
given,
And that the calm and sainted dead will meet estranged and cold in
heaven:-
Oh, Love were poor and vain indeed, based on so harsh and stern a
creed.
True that this earth must pass away, with all the starry worlds of
light,
With all the glory of the day, and calmer tenderness of night;
For, in that radiant home can shine alone the immortal and divine.
Earth's lower things--her pride, her fame, her science, learning,
wealth and power -
Slow growths that through long ages came, or fruits of some
convulsive hour,
Whose very memory must decay--Heaven is too pure for such as they.
They are complete: their work is done. So let them sleep in
endless rest.
Love's life is only here begun, nor is, nor can be, fully blest;
It has no room to spread its wings, amid this crowd of meaner
things.
Just for the very shadow thrown upon its sweetness here below,
The cross that it must bear alone, and bloody baptism of woe,
Crowned and completed through its pain, we know that it shall rise
again.
So if its flame burn pure and bright, here, where our air is dark
and dense,
And nothing in this world of night lives with a living so intense;
When it shall reach its home at length--how bright its light! how
strong its strength!
And while the vain weak loves of earth (for such base counterfeits
abound)
Shall perish with what gave them birth--their graves are green and
fresh around,
No funeral song shall need to rise, for the true Love that never
dies.
If in my heart I now could fear that, risen again, we should not
know
What was our Life of Life when here--the hearts we loved so much
below;
I would arise this very day, and cast so poor a thing away.
But Love is no such soulless clod: living, perfected it shall rise
Transfigured in the
May be the truer life, and this the dream.
VERSE: ENVY
He was the first always: Fortune
Shone bright in his face.
I fought for years; with no effort
He conquered the place:
We ran; my feet were all bleeding,
But he won the race.
Spite of his many successes
Men loved him the same;
My one pale ray of good fortune
Met scoffing and blame.
When we erred, they gave him pity,
But me--only shame.
My home was still in the shadow,
His lay in the sun:
I longed in vain: what he asked for
It straightway was done.
Once I staked all my heart's treasure,
We played--and he won.
Yes; and just now I have seen him,
Cold, smiling, and blest,
Laid in his coffin. God help me!
While he is at rest,
I am cursed still to live:- even
Death loved him the best.
VERSE: OVER THE MOUNTAIN
Like dreary prison walls
The stern grey mountains rise,
Until their topmost crags
Touch the far gloomy skies:
One steep and narrow path
Winds up the mountain's crest,
And from our valley leads
Out to the golden West.
I dwell here in content,
Thankful for tranquil days;
And yet, my eyes grow dim,
As still I gaze and gaze
Upon that mountain pass,
That leads--or so it seems -
To some far happy land,
Known in a world of dreams.
And as I watch that path
Over the distant hill,
A foolish longing comes
My heart and soul to fill,
A painful, strange desire
To break some weary bond,
A vague unuttered wish
For what might lie beyond!
In that far world unknown,
Over that distant hill,
May dwell the loved and lost,
Lost--yet beloved still;
I have a yearning hope,
Half longing, and half pain,
That by that mountain pass
They may return again.
Space may keep friends apart,
Death has a mighty thrall;
There is another gulf
Harder to cross than all;
Yet watching that far road,
My heart beats full and fast -
If they should come once more,
If they should come at last!
See, down the mountain side
The silver vapours creep;
They hide the rocky cliffs.
They hide the craggy steep,
They hide the narrow path
That comes across the hill -
Oh, foolish longing, cease,
Oh, beating Heart, be still!
VERSE: BEYOND
We must not doubt, or fear, or dread, that love for life is only
given,
And that the calm and sainted dead will meet estranged and cold in
heaven:-
Oh, Love were poor and vain indeed, based on so harsh and stern a
creed.
True that this earth must pass away, with all the starry worlds of
light,
With all the glory of the day, and calmer tenderness of night;
For, in that radiant home can shine alone the immortal and divine.
Earth's lower things--her pride, her fame, her science, learning,
wealth and power -
Slow growths that through long ages came, or fruits of some
convulsive hour,
Whose very memory must decay--Heaven is too pure for such as they.
They are complete: their work is done. So let them sleep in
endless rest.
Love's life is only here begun, nor is, nor can be, fully blest;
It has no room to spread its wings, amid this crowd of meaner
things.
Just for the very shadow thrown upon its sweetness here below,
The cross that it must bear alone, and bloody baptism of woe,
Crowned and completed through its pain, we know that it shall rise
again.
So if its flame burn pure and bright, here, where our air is dark
and dense,
And nothing in this world of night lives with a living so intense;
When it shall reach its home at length--how bright its light! how
strong its strength!
And while the vain weak loves of earth (for such base counterfeits
abound)
Shall perish with what gave them birth--their graves are green and
fresh around,
No funeral song shall need to rise, for the true Love that never
dies.
If in my heart I now could fear that, risen again, we should not
know
What was our Life of Life when here--the hearts we loved so much
below;
I would arise this very day, and cast so poor a thing away.
But Love is no such soulless clod: living, perfected it shall rise
Transfigured in the