A Surmise
As one might wonder, waking from a swoon,
And seeing the far horizon half alight,—
Is it the morning broadening to the noon?
Or is it evening sinking into night?
And seeing the far horizon half alight,—
Is it the morning broadening to the noon?
Or is it evening sinking into night?
Or as one standing on the silent shore
If it be ebb or flow can scarcely guess;
Whether the lesser flowing to the more,
Or but the greater lapsing to the less.
If it be ebb or flow can scarcely guess;
Whether the lesser flowing to the more,
Or but the greater lapsing to the less.
O shrouded mystery! the baffled soul,
Long coasting round thy solemn boundaries,
Divines the rounded brightness of the whole,
That first must wane upon these mortal skies.
Long coasting round thy solemn boundaries,
Divines the rounded brightness of the whole,
That first must wane upon these mortal skies.
The tide, when it lays bare the lonely strand,
But lifts more high the great mid-depths of sea:
Does death work life? Does losing fill the hand?
Does darkness feed the light that is to be?
But lifts more high the great mid-depths of sea:
Does death work life? Does losing fill the hand?
Does darkness feed the light that is to be?
O, then it is no longer life and death,
But life and life, in ever-circling light!
Then ebb and flow of fortune or of breath
Are equal tides that lift us to our height!
But life and life, in ever-circling light!
Then ebb and flow of fortune or of breath
Are equal tides that lift us to our height!
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