No More Learning

Yea, or nay?
Some one might be waiting for
Some last word that I might say.
Nay? So best! --so angels would
Stand off clear from deathly road,
Not to cross the sight of God.

XXIX.

Colder grow my hands and feet.
When I wear the shroud I made,
Let the folds lie straight and neat,
And the rosemary be spread,
That if any friend should come,
(To see _thee_, Sweet! ) all the room
May be lifted out of gloom.

XXX.

And, dear Bertha, let me keep
On my hand this little ring,
Which at nights, when others sleep,
I can still see glittering!
Let me wear it out of sight,
In the grave,--where it will light
All the dark up, day and night.

XXXI.

On that grave drop not a tear!
Else, though fathom-deep the place,
Through the woollen shroud I wear
I shall feel it on my face.
Rather smile there, blessed one,
Thinking of me in the sun,
Or forget me--smiling on!

XXXII.

Art thou near me? nearer! so--
Kiss me close upon the eyes,
That the earthly light may go
Sweetly, as it used to rise
When I watched the morning-grey
Strike, betwixt the hills, the way
He was sure to come that day.

XXXIII.

So,--no more vain words be said!
The hosannas nearer roll.
Mother, smile now on thy Dead,
I am death-strong in my soul.
Mystic Dove alit on cross,
Guide the poor bird of the snows
Through the snow-wind above loss!

XXXIV.

Jesus, Victim, comprehending
Love's divine self-abnegation,
Cleanse my love in its self-spending,
And absorb the poor libation!
Wind my thread of life up higher,
Up, through angels' hands of fire!
I aspire while I expire.




_LADY GERALDINE'S COURTSHIP:_

A ROMANCE OF THE AGE.

_A Poet writes to his Friend.