154
Reiselust
Day, have I not paid the toll?My body given the wholeThat will let pass my soul?The roses of the morn lie thick on my Love's bier,And she is risen; she is no longer here.A star upon the stern she beckons me.Sweet Death, one dawn, let me go back with thee,Sweet Death, take me from out the noisy lightInto thy night, thy comforting still night.
Yea, soon, for my Love's sake,Sweet Death my hand will take,And I shall not awakeTill past the blooming isle.Then shall my eyelids quiver 'neath her smile,And I shall gaze, and from my Love's clear eyesShall learn her slow wide learning, and be wise,Shall learn the speech they speak across the sea:'Tis a large language my Love speaks to me.
Then far beyond to sail,And further further coasts to hail,And ventures shall not fail.And missionary dreams my Love and IWe'll hover mid the world's troubled sky,And sleeping men to discontent shall tease,To venture further skies and wider seas.
Have I not guessed the meaning of the dark?Thy hand, O Death! To-night let me embark.
