Part 32

"Far Away!" we meet in dreams, As 'round the altar of the night Far-parted stars send down their gleams To meet in one embrace of light And make the brow of darkness bright.

"Far Away!" we meet in tears, That tell the path of weary feet; And all the good-byes of the years But make the wanderer's welcome sweet, The rains of parted clouds thus meet.

"Far Away!" we meet in prayer, You know the temple and the shrine; Before it bows the brow of care, Upon it tapers dimly shine; 'Tis mercy's home, and yours and mine.

"Far Away!" it falls between What is to-day and what has been; But ah! what is meet, what is not, In every hour and every spot, Where lips breathe on "I have forgot."

"Far Away!" there is no far! Nor days nor distance e'er can bar My spirit from your spirits -- nay, Farewell may waft a face away, But still with you my heart will stay.

"Far Away!" I sing its song, But while the music moves along, From out each word an echo clear Falls trembling on my spirit's ear, "Far Away" means "Far More Near".

Listen

We borrow, In our sorrow, From the sun of some to-morrow Half the light that gilds to-day; And the splendor Flashes tender O'er hope's footsteps to defend her From the fears that haunt the way.

We never Here can sever Any now from the forever Interclasping near and far! For each minute Holds within it All the hours of the infinite, As one sky holds every star.

Wrecked

The winds are singing a death-knell Out on the main to-night; The sky droops low -- and many a bark That sailed from harbors bright, Like many an one before, Shall enter port no more: And a wreck shall drift to some unknown shore Before to-morrow's light.

The clouds are hanging a death-pall Over the sea to-night; The stars are veiled -- and the hearts that sailed Away from harbors bright, Shall sob their last for their quiet home -- And, sobbing, sink 'neath the whirling foam Before the morning's light.

The waves are weaving a death-shroud Out on the main to-night; Alas! the last prayer whispered there By lips with terror white! Over the ridge of gloom, Not a star will loom! God help the souls that will meet their doom Before the dawn of light!

* * * * *

The breeze is singing a joy song Over the sea to-day; The storm is dead and the waves are red With the flush of the morning's ray; And the sleepers sleep, but beyond the deep The eyes that watch for the ships shall weep For the hearts they bore away.

Dreaming

The moan of a wintry soul Melted into a summer song, And the words, like the wavelet's roll, Moved murmuringly along.

And the song flowed far and away, Like the voice of a half-sleeping rill -- Each wave of it lit by a ray -- But the sound was so soft and so still,

And the tone was so gentle and low, None heard the song till it had passed; Till the echo that followed its flow Came dreamingly back from the past.

'Twas too late! -- a song never returns That passes our pathway unheard; As dust lying dreaming in urns Is the song lying dead in a word.

For the birds of the skies have a nest, And the winds have a home where they sleep, And songs, like our souls, need a rest, Where they murmur the while we may weep.

* * * * *

But songs -- like the birds o'er the foam, Where the storm wind is beating their breast, Fly shoreward -- and oft find a home In the shelter of words where they rest.

A Thought

Hearts that are great beat never loud, They muffle their music when they come; They hurry away from the thronging crowd With bended brows and lips half dumb,

And the world looks on and mutters -- "Proud." But when great hearts have passed away Men gather in awe and kiss their shroud, And in love they kneel around their clay.

Hearts that are great are always lone, They never will manifest their best; Their greatest greatness is unknown -- Earth knows a little -- God, the rest.

"Yesterdays"