Poems (Greenwell)/To a Distant Friend
TO A DISTANT FRIEND.
INSCRIBED TO D. E. L.
"There are wonders in true affection." Religio Medici.
I knew not ye were sad, Dear distant friends of mine! Across the sea Ye sent me only tidings making glad, And all was gladness round; for Life to me Had grown a summer's day, whose very air Was luxury to breathe, and on Love's fair Smooth forehead lurked no folded plait of care; Yet, borne I knew not whence, a sadness stole, Disquieting the music of my soul With dreary change; as one that, feasting high At some great banquet, feels a tremor chill Pass o'er him, and, grown sudden pale and still, Sets down his brimming goblet with a sigh, So all the wine of my felicity Was mixed with tears! oh, strange that now the cup Should shrink within itself, and narrow up For fulness poured within it! dark distrust Was this of God, and servile fear, unjust To Love's ungrudging sunshine: I would pray,And so this heaviness should pass away; But when your names arose that ever there Are nearest to my spirit, all my prayer Was stayed upon their sound, as when a strain Recurring oft unbidden, will enchain The sense to track its cadence, I must pause Upon these words that ever on my way O'erlook me urgent, "Pray yet longer, pray For them thou lovest,—is there not a cause?"
And even then ye wept; And even then o'er Desert and o'er Sea Were deathful tidings speeding on to me, That knew them through a steadfast pulse that kept Its pace with yours; I needed but to tear My festal robes to show the sackcloth bare They hid; and even with the iron tongue That knelled your loss, a warning presage flung Across my path the shadow of your care!
And quickly hath this keen Vibration brought us to the other near, Because the air betwixt us was serene;And calm as when on mountain summits clear,We count distinct the fall of distant bells, So is there stillness round the soul that dwells In Love! The spirit loosened from the jar Of earthly turbulence, can hear afar Belovèd footsteps stir, and thus we prove Through very pain the comforting of Love. For we have parted at a wrench from all The things we held in common, so that now One wears the rose of joy, while on some brow Or in some bosom best-beloved, the thorn Is rankling deep; for now we may not press Each other's hand or lip, we do but guess At one another's faces far withdrawn. And one is crowned and robed, while one forlorn Doth sit upon the ground; our lots are cast So wide, upon the waste your whisper dies,And while we tell you of our smile it flies. For even while we speak with you—so fast Life's golden sands are fleeting—unto Past Our Present darkens! Yet- the heart hath set Its calm Eternal Dial to a Sun That changes not. That changes not.Oh, friends, we had not metE'en when together; heart when drawn to heart Most near, had shrunk and shivered, held apart By chillness from within—more blank, more keen Than seas that roll, than winds that sweep between, Except for Him who holdeth even yet Our souls in one. Oh, Love, that doth o'ersweep The gulfs of Time and Space, and o'er our sleep And o'er our waking brood, if dear and nearAre one in thy blest language even here, How may it fare with them that on a shore Where none are parted, none are troubled more, A little farther from us dwell, set free From bonds that fetter here.—And may there be In heavenly harps a chord that vibrates still In swift yet painless unison with ill That mars not perfect music?Yet I cast My plummet down a mystery too vast For mortal line to fathom. Deep to deep Doth call, yet wake no answer. Love will keep This sweetest of its secrets till the last!