MIRRORS OF LIFE AND DEATH.
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Amen, I say; I turn to that bleak North
Whence I came forth—
The South lies out of reach.
Whence I came forth—
The South lies out of reach.
But when our swallows fly back to the South,
To the sweet South, to the sweet South,
The tears may come again into my eyes
On the old wise,
And the sweet name to my mouth.
To the sweet South, to the sweet South,
The tears may come again into my eyes
On the old wise,
And the sweet name to my mouth.
MIRRORS OF LIFE AND DEATH.
THE mystery of Life, the mystery
Of Death, I see
Darkly as in a glass;
Their shadows pass,
And talk with me.
Of Death, I see
Darkly as in a glass;
Their shadows pass,
And talk with me.
As the flush of a Morning Sky,
As a Morning Sky colourless—
Each yields its measure of light
To a wet world or a dry;
Each fares through day to night
With equal pace,
And then each one
Is done.
As a Morning Sky colourless—
Each yields its measure of light
To a wet world or a dry;
Each fares through day to night
With equal pace,
And then each one
Is done.
As the Sun with glory and grace
In his face,
In his face,
