No More Learning

' 10
'Oh, that's a meteor sent us, a message dumb, portentous,--
An undeciphered solemn signal of help or hurt. '

'Oh, what is that glides quickly where velvet flowers grow thickly,
Their scent comes rich and sickly? '--'A scaled and hooded worm. '
'Oh, what's that in the hollow, so pale I quake to follow? '
'Oh, that's a thin dead body which waits th' eternal term. '

'Turn again, O my sweetest,--turn again, false and fleetest:
This way whereof thou weetest I fear is hell's own track. '
'Nay, too steep for hill-mounting,--nay, too late for cost-counting:
This downhill path is easy, but there's no turning back. ' 20




WHO SHALL DELIVER ME?

(_The Argosy_, Feb. 1866. )


God strengthen me to bear myself;
That heaviest weight of all to bear,
Inalienable weight of care.

All others are outside myself,
I lock my door and bar them out
The turmoil, tedium, gad-about.

I lock my door upon myself,
And bar them out; but who shall wall
Self from myself, most loathed of all?

If I could once lay down myself, 10
And start self-purged upon the race
That all must run! Death runs apace.
If I could set aside myself,
And start with lightened heart upon
The road by all men overgone!

God harden me against myself,
This coward with pathetic voice
Who craves for ease, and rest, and joys:

Myself, arch-traitor to myself;
My hollowest friend, my deadliest foe, 20
My clog whatever road I go.

Yet One there is can curb myself,
Can roll the strangling load from me,
Break off the yoke and set me free.




IF

(_The Argosy_, March 1866. )


If he would come to-day, to-day, to-day,
O, what a day to-day would be!
But now he's away, miles and miles away
From me across the sea.

O little bird, flying, flying, flying
To your nest in the warm west,
Tell him as you pass that I am dying,
As you pass home to your nest.

I have a sister, I have a brother,
A faithful hound, a tame white dove; 10
But I had another, once I had another,
And I miss him, my love, my love!

In this weary world it is so cold, so cold,
While I sit here all alone;
I would not like to wait and to grow old,
But just to be dead and gone.

Make me fair when I lie dead on my bed,
Fair where I am lying:
Perhaps he may come and look upon me dead--
He for whom I am dying. 20

Dig my grave for two, with a stone to show it,
And on the stone write my name;
If he never comes, I shall never know it,
But sleep on all the same.




TWILIGHT NIGHT

(_The Argosy_, March 1866. )


I

We met, hand to hand,
We clasped hands close and fast,
As close as oak and ivy stand;
But it is past:
Come day, come night, day comes at last.

We loosed hand from hand,
We parted face from face;
Each went his way to his own land.
At his own pace,
Each went to fill his separate place. 10

If we should meet one day,
If both should not forget,
We shall clasp hands the accustomed way,
As when we met
So long ago, as I remember yet.