XLIIA SURMISE
Our mortal day breaks from the great unseen.
Whither once more it darkly vanisheth;
Two shadowy goals with faltering steps between,—
O, tell me, which is life, and which is death?
Whither once more it darkly vanisheth;
Two shadowy goals with faltering steps between,—
O, tell me, which is life, and which is death?
Nor is this but an idle questioning;
At every step we cross some dark surprise,
For life and death are what the moments bring,
And we must know them through their strange disguise.
At every step we cross some dark surprise,
For life and death are what the moments bring,
And we must know them through their strange disguise.
Joys we shall have that blossomed in the shade,
And griefs that out of sweetest dreams awoke;
Doubts that grow clear, and certainties that fade;
A weary crown, a light and easy yoke.
And griefs that out of sweetest dreams awoke;
Doubts that grow clear, and certainties that fade;
A weary crown, a light and easy yoke.
Wrongs we shall see made servants of the right;
The noblest victories won by those that fail;
Great hearts that triumph, falling in the fight;—
Death hand to hand with life, behind the veil!
The noblest victories won by those that fail;
Great hearts that triumph, falling in the fight;—
Death hand to hand with life, behind the veil!
Thus evermore we must our pathway thread,
'Mid lights that beckon, shadows that dismay;
Till the bewildered heart, so strangely led,
Wonders if life or death shall win the day,
'Mid lights that beckon, shadows that dismay;
Till the bewildered heart, so strangely led,
Wonders if life or death shall win the day,
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