Classic Poem

Through the wood, in evening's shadow, straying;
O'er me arched the boughs, in silent gloom;
Deep in dreamy vision, long delaying,
Fades to night the day's departing bloom.

Fades the skyey rose, that over mountain
Blossomed wide and full in fields of air, —
Bloomed in heaven aloft, and low in fountain
Shone in softer tints, as pure and fair.

Darkness veils me round, and voices, gliding
Through the murmuring foliage, seem to say:
" Pause, and listen to the spirit's chiding, —
Haste, O, haste to brighter worlds away!

" Mark the last, soft tint of day, receding
O'er the top of yonder solemn pine!
So departs the lingering spirit, leading
To yon purer day's eternal shine.

" There await thee all thy heart has cherished;
There the early loved, the hoped and gone:
Not a treasure of thy heart has perished, —
All to yonder world of rest have flown. "