THE FUTURE LIFE. How shall I know thee in the sphere which keeps The disembodied spirits of the dead, When all of thee that time could wither sleeps, And perishes among the dust we tread? For I shall feel the sting of ceaseless pain, Will not thy own meek heart demand me there? That heart whose fondest throbs to me were given? My name on earth was ever in thy prayer, And must thou never utter it in heaven? In meadows fanned by heaven's life-breathing wind, In the resplendence of that glorious sphere, And larger movements of the unfettered mind, Wilt thou forget the love that joined us here? 134 The Future Life. The love that lived through all the stormy past, And meekly with my harsher nature bore, And deeper grew, and tenderer to the last, Shall it expire with life, and be no more? A happier lot than mine, and larger light, And lovest all, and renderest good for ill. For me, the sordid cares in which I dwell Shrink and consume my heart, as heat the scroll; And wrath has left its scar, that fire of hell Has left its frightful scar upon my soul. Yet though thou wear'st the glory of the sky, Wilt thou not keep the same beloved name, The same fair thoughtful brow, and gentle eye, Lovelier in heaven's sweet climate, yet the same? Shalt thou not teach me, in that calmer home, The wisdom that I learned so ill in this, The wisdom which is love, till I become Thy fit companion in that land of bliss? THE RETURN OF YOUTH. My friend, thou sorrowest for thy golden prime, For thy fair youthful years, too swift of flight; Thou musest, with wet eyes, upon the time Of cheerful hopes that filled the world with light, Years when thy heart was bold, thy hand was strong, And quick the thought that moved thy tongue to speak, And willing faith was thine, and scorn of wrong Summoned the sudden crimson to thy cheek. Thou lookest forward on the coming days, Shuddering to feel their shadow o'er thee creep; A path, thick-set with changes and decays, Slopes downward to the place of common sleep; And they who walked with thee in life's first stage Leave one by one thy side, and, waiting near, 136 The Return of Youth. Thou seest the sad companions of thy age, - Yet grieve thou not, nor think thy youth is gone, Nor deem that glorious season e'er could die; Thy pleasant youth, a little while withdrawn, Waits on the horizon of a brighter sky; Waits, like the morn, that folds her wing and hides, Till the slow stars bring back her dawning hour; Waits, like the vanished spring, that slumbering bides Her own sweet time to waken bud and flower. There shall he welcome thee, when thou shalt stand On his bright morning hills, with smiles more sweet Than when at first he took thee by the hand, Through the fair earth to lead thy tender feet. He shall bring back, but brighter, broader still, Life's early glory to thine eyes again, Shall clothe thy spirit with new strength, and fill Thy leaping heart with warmer love than then. Hast thou not glimpses, in the twilight here, |