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(Died August 4, 1875)
A BEING cleaves the moonlit air, | |
| With eyes of dew and plumes of fire, | |
| Newborn, immortal, strong and fair; | |
| Glance ere he goes! | |
| His feet are shrouded like the dead, | 5 |
| But in his face a wild desire | |
| Breaks like the dawn that flushes red, | |
| And like a rose. | |
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| The stars shine out above his path, | |
| And music wakes through all the skies; | 10 |
| What mortal such a triumph hath, | |
| By death set free? | |
| What earthly hands and heart are pure | |
| As this man’s, whose unshrinking eyes | |
| Gaze onward through the deep obscure, | 15 |
| Nor quail to see? | |
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| Ah! this was he who drank the fount | |
| Of wisdom set in speechless things, | |
| Who, patient, watched the day-star mount, | |
| While others slept. | 20 |
| Ah! this was he whose loving soul | |
| Found heart-beats under trembling wings, | |
| And heard divinest music roll | |
| Where wild springs leapt. | |
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| For poor dumb lips had songs for him | 25 |
| And children’s dreamings ran in tune, | |
| And strange old heroes, weird and dim, | |
| Walked by his side. | |
| The very shadows loved him well | |
| And danced and flickered in the moon, | 30 |
| And left him wondrous tales to tell | |
| Men far and wide. | |
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| And now no more he smiling walks | |
| Through greenwood alleys full of sun, | |
| And, as he wanders, turns and talks, | 35 |
| Though none be there; | |
| The children watch in vain the place | |
| Where they were wont, when day was done, | |
| To see their poet’s sweet worn face, | |
| And faded hair. | 40 |
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| Yet dream not such a spirit dies, | |
| Though all its earthly shrine decay! | |
| Transfigured under clearer skies, | |
| He sings anew; | |
| The frail soul-covering, racked with pain, | 45 |
| And scored with vigil, fades away, | |
| The soul set free and young again | |
| Glides upward through. | |
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| Weep not; but watch the moonlit air! | |
| Perchance a glory like a star | 50 |
| May leave what hangs about him there, | |
| And flash on us!…. | |
| Behold! the void is full of light, | |
| The beams pierce heaven from bar to bar, | |
| And all the hollows of the night | 55 |
| Grow luminous! | |
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