Classic Poem

I watched the swans in that proud park
Which England's Queen looks out upon;
I sat there till the dewy dark, —
And every other soul was gone;
And sitting silent, all alone,
I seemed to hear a spirit say,
Be calm, the night is, — never moan
For friendships that have passed away.

The swans that vanished from thy sight
Will come to-morrow, at their hour;
But when thy joys have taken flight,
To bring them back no prayer hath power.
'T is the world's law; and why deplore
A doom that from thy birth was fate?
True, 't is a bitter word, " No more! "
But look beyond this mortal state.

Believ'st thou in eternal things?
Thou feelest in thy inmost heart,
Thou art not clay; thy soul hath wings,
And what thou seest is but part.
Make this thy medicine for the smart
Of every day's distress: be dumb;
In each new loss thou truly art
Tasting the power of things to come.