Classic Poem

The moonbeams on the water sleep,
In breathing light,
And tender thoughts and memories keep
My soul to-night.

Shades of sweet hours, forever gone,
Return unsought,
And waves of mournful joy dance on
The stream of thought.

A dreamy fragrance seems to rise
From other years, —
A solemn bliss, that dims the eyes
With happy tears.

Life wears the glow of rosy grace
That first it wore,
And smiles are lit on many a face
That smiles no more.

The gentle friends I used to greet, —
They all are here:
All forms are fair, all voices sweet,
All memories dear.

All happy thoughts, all glorious dreams,
That once were mine,
Rise, in the tender light that beams
From auld lang syne.

But something in the heart is wrong, —
The joyous sway,
The spirit and the voice of song
Have died away.

These winds, that on their cloudy cars
Sweep through the sky,
These wandering, watching, deathless stars,
My prayer deny.

These low, sweet murmurs from the land
And from the sea,
These waves, that kiss the silver sand,
Speak not to me.

And not to me one voice shall speak
For evermore,
Though the same waves in beauty break
On the same shore.

Shine stars, sob waves, and murmur blast,
And night-dews weep!
To wait is left me, and at last
The dreamless sleep.