Classic Poem

My thoughts are full of gloom to-night, my heart is full of pain;
And tears, dull as a blind man's, roll adown my cheeks like rain.
And yet the moon is beaming bright, the stars are shining true,
Yet dimly, in their distant skies and fields of palest blue.
Within my home the lamp-light shines a chamber's length along,
And there my children's voices rise in laughter and in song.
Without, assembled here and there, the trees like phantoms stand,
And cast their spectral shadows down upon the spectral land.
And all around are sweetest sounds — the music of the night,
The sidelong whisper of the leaves, the churme of waters bright.
A dream of fragrance fills the air, the moon-flower's cup o'erflows,
And subtle ears, perchance, may hear the breathing of the rose.
The dark green earth, the pale blue heaven with mellow grace are clad,
The night-flower blows, the music flows, and yet my heart is sad.

For my delight is far from me — it comes not at my call,
The perfect womanhood, which gave a meaning to them all.
The burning rose turns to the moon its folded heart, dew-fed,
The gentle lily shrinks and hides its pure and stainless head.
They are but parts of Nature's plan; my love unites the whole,
As if the rose's glowing form possessed the lily's soul.
Full well I know, behind the veil, a loving purpose reigns
Through all the mystery of earth, its pleasures and its pains.
Tree sighs for tree, flower sighs for flower, love binds them in its thrall;
But she is far away whose love, with mine, discovered all.