My life till now has been one varied scene
Of sunshine and of shade — of joy and grief;
The years have stolen on me like a thief;
I have well-nigh forgot what I have been!
What have I been? The past let me recall;
Let all my bygone years before me pass,
And let me see them all as in a glass
Reflected: let me gaze upon them all.
I've been a child, and tasted all the joy
That comes in childhood's short-lived summer day;
I've felt those thoughts for ever passed away,
The venturous visions of the dreaming boy.
Sweet are the joys of childhood: sweeter still
The thoughts that come in dreamy days of youth,
Ere yet the world has lost its look of truth,
Ere yet we sin with judgment and with will.
I've been a lover, and beneath the trees
On moonlit nights have whispered words of love,
While all the stars looked brightly from above,
And all around was peace; the fragrant breeze
Played softly on the lovely cheek of her
Who sat beside me, beautiful and fair,
And lifted up her wealth of silvery hair,
And shook the branches with a gentle stir.
Like music. Sweet it was on nights like this
To sit beside her, clasping her soft hand;
To feel the thoughts I scarce could understand,
Those strange, tumultuous throbs of joys and bliss.
But love, alas! is not all sweet and fair,
For grief must ever follow in its train;
It brings us sorrow, and it brings us pain,
And pangs of doubt and moanings of despair.
And I have felt the bitterness at noon —
The fever raging in my burning head,
And tossed at midnight on my sleepless bed,
And wept in anguish, while the waning moon
Looked in upon me with its pale, cold beam,
And seemed to mock me through the long lone night
Till morning came, bringing with it delight
For many; but, alas! it brought no gleam.
Of joy for me. 'Tis sad that love, sweet love,
Should glow and radiate in one heart alone,
And leave another cold and dead as stone —
So stern, so chilly, and so hard to move.
I've been a mourner, and have stood beside
The bed of suffering, and have held my breath
To see thee come, O grim destroyer, Death,
And take away with thee our houschold's pride.
Oh, can I e'er forget the tears I shed?
Can I forget thy look? It haunts me now
Thy calm and quiet smile, thy glassy brow:
I could not think that thou indeed wert dead.
Yet thou wert dead; sweetly the Sabbath chimes
Were sounding when thy spirit passed away,
As if to bear thee up to realms of day
Upon their swell with joy. And yet sometimes,
When Vesper draws his curtain round my head,
And evening settles down serene and gray,
And care is flitting with the flitting day,
Sometimes I think my brother is not dead.
Thou art not dead! but only gone before;
And in this weary world of sin and pain
Though we may never see thy face again,
We'll meet thee on that undiscovered shore —
Where thou art gone to dwell midst love and light,
And joy of which ne'er mortal man did dream;
Where truth flows ever onward like a stream,
Where there are no more tears, no death, no night.
O, Friendship, how my heart has clung to thee!
'Mid summer sunshine and 'mid winter's storm
Still have I seen thy dear familiar form,
Still heard thy fond voice whispering to me.
And yet I have lost many friends! the waves
Of time have come and swept them from my view
Some wander far away, some are untrue,
And some are sleeping in their silent graves.
Wilt thou, my Friend, be but a friend in name,
And one day realize my darkest fears,
And change like others with the changing years?
Or wilt thou be unchangeably the same.
As when I knew thee in the first fair days,
When you and I were blithe and gay and young —
When o'er the fields our happy voices rung
In chorus, and all nature seemed a blaze.
Of living glory? But shouldst thou forget,
Sometimes when Memory holds her silent reign,
The old times will come back to thee again,
And thou wilt look upon them with regret; —
Perhaps a thought of me will intervene,
And thou wilt pause and sadly wonder why
You feel a tear-drop starting to the eye,
When you review the days that once have been.
And then will come the thoughts of long ago,
And how together on the summer eves
We lay beneath the ever-rustling leaves,
And heard the gladsome brooklet's prattling flow;
Or how upon the dreamy rock-bound shore,
On softly sweet and beauteous moonlit nights,
When heaven had hung out all its starry lights,
We sat and heard the deep-mouthed river's roar;
Or how we felt the full-moon's glorious beam
Look deeply down from the blue vault above;
Or how we dreamed the long sweet dream of Love,
Ere yet we knew it was indeed a dream.
And thou wilt think amid the care and strife
Of this stern world, when that thy heart is sick,
And fears and troubles sting thee to the quick,
" That was the happiest period of my life."
Forgive me, O my Friend, my want of faith;
Sometimes into my heart such doubts will steal —
They are but passing shadows, and I feel,
Whate'er betide, that we are friends till death;
That nought can change thee, nothing e'er destroy
The band that knits thy soul to mine; my friend;
But thou wilt be the same, e'en to the end,
Through days of darkness and through hours of joy.
Oh, let us ever keep our hearts as pure
And holy as they were in days of youth,
And let us ever, ever love the truth,
So we may rest in peace — for heaven is sure.
My life indeed has been one varied scene
Of sunshine and of shade, of joy and grief:
The years have stolen on me like a thief;
And I have nigh forgot what I have been!
My joys are sent to cheer me on the road —
The snare-abounding, rugged road of life;
My griefs are sent to fit me for its strife;
And both are sent to lead me nearer God —
That God who smiles in sunshine and in shower,
Who is the Centre of the universe;
Whose mighty acts no mortal can rehearse,
Or tell His love, or show forth all His power!
I wonder what my future life will be:
Will it be one of sunshine and of joy?
Or will I, like a mean and worthless toy,
Be made the sport of fortune's stormy sea?
Sometimes I sit alone in dreary mood,
And sombre thoughts and vague wild fancies come,
And enter in, and make their darkling home
Within my heart, and then I see no good
In this vain life; what is it but a dream —
A troubled dream that soon comes to a close,
Where hopes and fears and griefs and joys and woes
Make up for ever its unchanging theme?
I look to the beginning; like a barque
By prosperous breezes safely borne along,
Its course doth seem all sunshine and all song;
I look towards the end, and all is dark.
In vain we seek to pierce the shadowy gloom
That hides the unknown future from our view;
In vain our eyes may strive to struggle through
The veil that hangs behind the silent tomb.
And yet sometimes I sicken 'mid the strife,
And then those feelings flash across my brain,
And then those longings come to me again:
" Oh, would that I could know my future life!"
Will I pass onward through this world unknown?
Will loves dry up like shallow summer streams?
Will hopes fade from me like forgotten dreams,
And leave me in this wilderness alone?
Or will a few fond hearts still cling to mine,
Through chance and change, 'mid pleasure or distress,
And twine round me in hours of loneliness,
E'en as the ivy doth round ruins twine?
Or will I reach the topmost tower of fame,
And gain a people's lasting gratitude,
And rank among the great, the wise, the good,
And future generations know my name?
What maiden shall I clasp unto my breast,
To be my second self, my dearer life,
My soft beguiler, comforter, and wife —
My guardian angel till I'm laid at rest?
When will I die? In life's gay happy prime,
Ere yet my heart has felt the weight of tears,
When like a glory burst the future years,
And rainbow-colours tint the coming time?
Or will I linger on to faint old age,
When worldly cares and tumults all shall cease,
And pass away at some sweet time of peace,
When naught but heaven doth all my thoughts engage?
Will many mourn me when I pass away
From this frail, fleeting world? Or will but few
Mix their sad tear-drops in the evening dew
That hangs in graveyards at the close of day?
But there are thoughts more 'wildering still than these,
And fears almost too venturous to express,
And longings over which the bitterness
Of darkness rolls like overwhelming seas!
Is there indeed a world beyond the grave,
Where man shall live in endless bliss or woe?
Or will he ne'er returning being know —
But fade like raindrops falling in the wave?
Is there indeed a God who reigns supreme,
Somewhere far off in undiscovered space,
Who sways the sceptre o'er the human race?
Or is He but a fiction or a dream?
O God! to think that I could ever doubt
Thy being — Thee from whom all good doth run;
Who art the bright and ever-shining Sun,
Which makes our dim lives glow like Thine. Without
Thee we would be like some poor helmless barque
Tossing about upon a troubled sea,
With none to point where sheltering havens be,
And none to guide us through the unknown dark!
Without Thee we could never draw a breath;
Without Thee we could never move a limb;
Without Thee our poor lives were dark and dim,
And we would pine and languish after death!
Throughout all Nature's wonders we can trace
The unseen workings of Thy mighty mind:
There's not a wild-flower opening to the wind
In which we cannot see Thy glorious face,
The daisy blushing on its native lea,
The foaming cataract gushing down the steep,
The prattling brook, the wild and wailing deep,
The sighing breeze — all speak to us of Thee.
Thy great Eye looked along the dreary vast
Of space, ere yet the glorious stars were made;
Creation has Thy mighty power displayed:
The future lies before Thee as the past!
The universe is with Thy wonders rife;
From Thee come all our hopes and joys and fears;
Thine Eye alone can see the coming years.
'Tis well we do not know our future life!
" 'Tis better as it is;" it may not be;
We cannot yet possess the great untold:
As well believe the shallow brook would hold
The unfathomed mysteries of the boundless sea.
Our hearts could not contain it, did we know —
All energy would cease, all hopes of fame;
All youthful visions of a glorious name
Would wing away, nor tell us where they go.
And bright-eyed Hope would, frowning, take her flight,
And no more gild the future with her beam;
And Death would haunt us like a waking dream,
And every day would be as dark as night.
O Thou great Being! far away, yet near,
Thou ever-present, universal Whole,
The living Element of every soul,
Dispel the shades and make the darkness clear;
Forgive me when I wander from the right,
Forgive me when I stumble in the gloom,
Be near me on my pathway to the tomb,
And guide me to Thy everlasting Light.
Of sunshine and of shade — of joy and grief;
The years have stolen on me like a thief;
I have well-nigh forgot what I have been!
What have I been? The past let me recall;
Let all my bygone years before me pass,
And let me see them all as in a glass
Reflected: let me gaze upon them all.
I've been a child, and tasted all the joy
That comes in childhood's short-lived summer day;
I've felt those thoughts for ever passed away,
The venturous visions of the dreaming boy.
Sweet are the joys of childhood: sweeter still
The thoughts that come in dreamy days of youth,
Ere yet the world has lost its look of truth,
Ere yet we sin with judgment and with will.
I've been a lover, and beneath the trees
On moonlit nights have whispered words of love,
While all the stars looked brightly from above,
And all around was peace; the fragrant breeze
Played softly on the lovely cheek of her
Who sat beside me, beautiful and fair,
And lifted up her wealth of silvery hair,
And shook the branches with a gentle stir.
Like music. Sweet it was on nights like this
To sit beside her, clasping her soft hand;
To feel the thoughts I scarce could understand,
Those strange, tumultuous throbs of joys and bliss.
But love, alas! is not all sweet and fair,
For grief must ever follow in its train;
It brings us sorrow, and it brings us pain,
And pangs of doubt and moanings of despair.
And I have felt the bitterness at noon —
The fever raging in my burning head,
And tossed at midnight on my sleepless bed,
And wept in anguish, while the waning moon
Looked in upon me with its pale, cold beam,
And seemed to mock me through the long lone night
Till morning came, bringing with it delight
For many; but, alas! it brought no gleam.
Of joy for me. 'Tis sad that love, sweet love,
Should glow and radiate in one heart alone,
And leave another cold and dead as stone —
So stern, so chilly, and so hard to move.
I've been a mourner, and have stood beside
The bed of suffering, and have held my breath
To see thee come, O grim destroyer, Death,
And take away with thee our houschold's pride.
Oh, can I e'er forget the tears I shed?
Can I forget thy look? It haunts me now
Thy calm and quiet smile, thy glassy brow:
I could not think that thou indeed wert dead.
Yet thou wert dead; sweetly the Sabbath chimes
Were sounding when thy spirit passed away,
As if to bear thee up to realms of day
Upon their swell with joy. And yet sometimes,
When Vesper draws his curtain round my head,
And evening settles down serene and gray,
And care is flitting with the flitting day,
Sometimes I think my brother is not dead.
Thou art not dead! but only gone before;
And in this weary world of sin and pain
Though we may never see thy face again,
We'll meet thee on that undiscovered shore —
Where thou art gone to dwell midst love and light,
And joy of which ne'er mortal man did dream;
Where truth flows ever onward like a stream,
Where there are no more tears, no death, no night.
O, Friendship, how my heart has clung to thee!
'Mid summer sunshine and 'mid winter's storm
Still have I seen thy dear familiar form,
Still heard thy fond voice whispering to me.
And yet I have lost many friends! the waves
Of time have come and swept them from my view
Some wander far away, some are untrue,
And some are sleeping in their silent graves.
Wilt thou, my Friend, be but a friend in name,
And one day realize my darkest fears,
And change like others with the changing years?
Or wilt thou be unchangeably the same.
As when I knew thee in the first fair days,
When you and I were blithe and gay and young —
When o'er the fields our happy voices rung
In chorus, and all nature seemed a blaze.
Of living glory? But shouldst thou forget,
Sometimes when Memory holds her silent reign,
The old times will come back to thee again,
And thou wilt look upon them with regret; —
Perhaps a thought of me will intervene,
And thou wilt pause and sadly wonder why
You feel a tear-drop starting to the eye,
When you review the days that once have been.
And then will come the thoughts of long ago,
And how together on the summer eves
We lay beneath the ever-rustling leaves,
And heard the gladsome brooklet's prattling flow;
Or how upon the dreamy rock-bound shore,
On softly sweet and beauteous moonlit nights,
When heaven had hung out all its starry lights,
We sat and heard the deep-mouthed river's roar;
Or how we felt the full-moon's glorious beam
Look deeply down from the blue vault above;
Or how we dreamed the long sweet dream of Love,
Ere yet we knew it was indeed a dream.
And thou wilt think amid the care and strife
Of this stern world, when that thy heart is sick,
And fears and troubles sting thee to the quick,
" That was the happiest period of my life."
Forgive me, O my Friend, my want of faith;
Sometimes into my heart such doubts will steal —
They are but passing shadows, and I feel,
Whate'er betide, that we are friends till death;
That nought can change thee, nothing e'er destroy
The band that knits thy soul to mine; my friend;
But thou wilt be the same, e'en to the end,
Through days of darkness and through hours of joy.
Oh, let us ever keep our hearts as pure
And holy as they were in days of youth,
And let us ever, ever love the truth,
So we may rest in peace — for heaven is sure.
My life indeed has been one varied scene
Of sunshine and of shade, of joy and grief:
The years have stolen on me like a thief;
And I have nigh forgot what I have been!
My joys are sent to cheer me on the road —
The snare-abounding, rugged road of life;
My griefs are sent to fit me for its strife;
And both are sent to lead me nearer God —
That God who smiles in sunshine and in shower,
Who is the Centre of the universe;
Whose mighty acts no mortal can rehearse,
Or tell His love, or show forth all His power!
I wonder what my future life will be:
Will it be one of sunshine and of joy?
Or will I, like a mean and worthless toy,
Be made the sport of fortune's stormy sea?
Sometimes I sit alone in dreary mood,
And sombre thoughts and vague wild fancies come,
And enter in, and make their darkling home
Within my heart, and then I see no good
In this vain life; what is it but a dream —
A troubled dream that soon comes to a close,
Where hopes and fears and griefs and joys and woes
Make up for ever its unchanging theme?
I look to the beginning; like a barque
By prosperous breezes safely borne along,
Its course doth seem all sunshine and all song;
I look towards the end, and all is dark.
In vain we seek to pierce the shadowy gloom
That hides the unknown future from our view;
In vain our eyes may strive to struggle through
The veil that hangs behind the silent tomb.
And yet sometimes I sicken 'mid the strife,
And then those feelings flash across my brain,
And then those longings come to me again:
" Oh, would that I could know my future life!"
Will I pass onward through this world unknown?
Will loves dry up like shallow summer streams?
Will hopes fade from me like forgotten dreams,
And leave me in this wilderness alone?
Or will a few fond hearts still cling to mine,
Through chance and change, 'mid pleasure or distress,
And twine round me in hours of loneliness,
E'en as the ivy doth round ruins twine?
Or will I reach the topmost tower of fame,
And gain a people's lasting gratitude,
And rank among the great, the wise, the good,
And future generations know my name?
What maiden shall I clasp unto my breast,
To be my second self, my dearer life,
My soft beguiler, comforter, and wife —
My guardian angel till I'm laid at rest?
When will I die? In life's gay happy prime,
Ere yet my heart has felt the weight of tears,
When like a glory burst the future years,
And rainbow-colours tint the coming time?
Or will I linger on to faint old age,
When worldly cares and tumults all shall cease,
And pass away at some sweet time of peace,
When naught but heaven doth all my thoughts engage?
Will many mourn me when I pass away
From this frail, fleeting world? Or will but few
Mix their sad tear-drops in the evening dew
That hangs in graveyards at the close of day?
But there are thoughts more 'wildering still than these,
And fears almost too venturous to express,
And longings over which the bitterness
Of darkness rolls like overwhelming seas!
Is there indeed a world beyond the grave,
Where man shall live in endless bliss or woe?
Or will he ne'er returning being know —
But fade like raindrops falling in the wave?
Is there indeed a God who reigns supreme,
Somewhere far off in undiscovered space,
Who sways the sceptre o'er the human race?
Or is He but a fiction or a dream?
O God! to think that I could ever doubt
Thy being — Thee from whom all good doth run;
Who art the bright and ever-shining Sun,
Which makes our dim lives glow like Thine. Without
Thee we would be like some poor helmless barque
Tossing about upon a troubled sea,
With none to point where sheltering havens be,
And none to guide us through the unknown dark!
Without Thee we could never draw a breath;
Without Thee we could never move a limb;
Without Thee our poor lives were dark and dim,
And we would pine and languish after death!
Throughout all Nature's wonders we can trace
The unseen workings of Thy mighty mind:
There's not a wild-flower opening to the wind
In which we cannot see Thy glorious face,
The daisy blushing on its native lea,
The foaming cataract gushing down the steep,
The prattling brook, the wild and wailing deep,
The sighing breeze — all speak to us of Thee.
Thy great Eye looked along the dreary vast
Of space, ere yet the glorious stars were made;
Creation has Thy mighty power displayed:
The future lies before Thee as the past!
The universe is with Thy wonders rife;
From Thee come all our hopes and joys and fears;
Thine Eye alone can see the coming years.
'Tis well we do not know our future life!
" 'Tis better as it is;" it may not be;
We cannot yet possess the great untold:
As well believe the shallow brook would hold
The unfathomed mysteries of the boundless sea.
Our hearts could not contain it, did we know —
All energy would cease, all hopes of fame;
All youthful visions of a glorious name
Would wing away, nor tell us where they go.
And bright-eyed Hope would, frowning, take her flight,
And no more gild the future with her beam;
And Death would haunt us like a waking dream,
And every day would be as dark as night.
O Thou great Being! far away, yet near,
Thou ever-present, universal Whole,
The living Element of every soul,
Dispel the shades and make the darkness clear;
Forgive me when I wander from the right,
Forgive me when I stumble in the gloom,
Be near me on my pathway to the tomb,
And guide me to Thy everlasting Light.