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Poems (Eaton)/I'm Sitting in the Moonlight

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4561091Poems — I'm Sitting in the MoonlightMarcia Jane Eaton

I'M SITTING IN THE MOONLIGHT.
I'M sitting in the moonlightThat streams across the floor,And calling back the early daysWhich may return no more.A merry childish group springs upBefore my mental eye,Whose streaming curls and dancing eyesGleam 'neath the moonlit sky;And well-remembered voices nowTheir echoes round me fling,Like strains of softest melody,Most dear when vanishing.And joyous shouts, and bounding feet,And laughter clear and wild, Are present in my memoryAs when I was a child—And my heart goes back with longing,To those careless days of yore,As I sit within the moonlightThat streams across the floor.
I'm sitting in the moonlightThat streams across the floor,And thinking of the flowers that strewMy later pathway o'er.Oh deem not, that with early yearsLife's beauty all hath passed;The advancing sun sheds brighter beamsThan those his rising cast.The swelling fruit or opening flowerWere but of little worth,Bereft of ripening noonday warmth,To bring their sweetness forth;So happiness, that plant divine,As still our years increase,Is ripened by the gentle raysThat flow from inward peace;While love, the gift conferred by God,Which brings us nearest heaven,In richest purest radianceTo years mature is given. And I mourn no more for all the joysLost childhood might restore,As I sit within the moonlightThat streams across the floor.
I'm sitting in the moonlightThat streams across the floor,And dreaming of the dearly-lovedUpon the peaceful shore.In that sweet haven of repose,Does memory e'er turn backTo us, blind, groping wanderersUpon life's darkened track?And 'mid the joyous songs of praise,That fill the heavenly dome,Heed they the broken strains that riseWithin their earlier home?Ah, well they loved us once, and throughThe yearning love we feel,Which time and death cannot efface,We know they love us still;And when our bark at last is launchedOn that dark river's tide,Their faithful hearts will welcome us,Their loving arms will guide;And sure the heavenly life itselfWill seem more deeply blest,While greeting those we left in tears,When entering into rest. Oh happy thoughts! oh glorious dreams!They haunt me evermore,As I sit within the moonlightThat streams across the floor.