Poems (Holmes)/A Soliloquy
POEMS.
A Soliloquy.
My harp is on the willow hung; To me the morning brings no light;No ray of sun or moon I see, But one unchanging night.
I cannot view those gem-like stars, That sparkle in the ethereal skies;Nor trace the clouds with golden fringe, That o'er the sunset rise.
Nor gaze upon the blooming flowers, That make the face of nature gay;Nor watch the ocean's sparkling waves, Where dancing sunbeams play.
To me the variegated earth Would seem one dark, unbroken plain,If, in my heart, I had not hid Bright visions that oft come again.
For I through nine fair summers passed, With scarce a cloud to shade my way,And loved the face of nature more, With each returning day.
But ere a tenth had fully come, My gladsome heart was wrapt in gloom;Lo! I was banished from the light, Condemned to a living tomb,—
Where even Hope's fair star grows dim, With clouds that o'er my spirit rise,And hide the gleams of holy light, Imparted from the skies.
But oh! I will with patience bear A grief which none can feel or know,But those for whom it is ordained, By Him who wills it so.
And Faith, not Sight, shall be my guide To Canaan's fair, celestial shore,Where Faith is lost in perfect Sight, And darkness is no more.