Poems (Proctor)/O Loved and Lost
O LOVED AND LOST.
I sit beside the sea this autumn day,
When sky and tide are ravishingly blue,
And melt into each other. Down the bay
The stately ships drift by so still and slow,
That, on the horizon's verge, I scarce may know
Which be the sails along the wave that glow,
And which the clouds that float the azure through.
When sky and tide are ravishingly blue,
And melt into each other. Down the bay
The stately ships drift by so still and slow,
That, on the horizon's verge, I scarce may know
Which be the sails along the wave that glow,
And which the clouds that float the azure through.
From beds of goldenrod and asters steal
The south winds, soft as any breath of May;
High in the sunny air the white gulls wheel,
As noiseless as the cloud they poise below;
And, in the hush, the light waves come and go
As if a spell entranced them, and their flow
Echoed the beat of oceans far away.
The south winds, soft as any breath of May;
High in the sunny air the white gulls wheel,
As noiseless as the cloud they poise below;
And, in the hush, the light waves come and go
As if a spell entranced them, and their flow
Echoed the beat of oceans far away.
O Loved and Lost! can you not stoop to me
This perfect morn, when heaven and earth are one?
The south winds breathe of you; I only see
(Alas, the vision sweet can naught avail!)
Your image in the cloud, the wave, the sail;
And heed nor calm, nor storm, nor bliss, nor bale,
Remembering you have gone beyond the sun.
This perfect morn, when heaven and earth are one?
The south winds breathe of you; I only see
(Alas, the vision sweet can naught avail!)
Your image in the cloud, the wave, the sail;
And heed nor calm, nor storm, nor bliss, nor bale,
Remembering you have gone beyond the sun.
One look into your eyes; one clasp of hands;
One murmured "Lo, I love you as before;"
And I would give you to your viewless lands,
And wait my time with never tear nor sigh;—
But not a whisper comes from earth or sky,
And the sole answer to my yearning cry
Is the faint wash of waves along the shore.
One murmured "Lo, I love you as before;"
And I would give you to your viewless lands,
And wait my time with never tear nor sigh;—
But not a whisper comes from earth or sky,
And the sole answer to my yearning cry
Is the faint wash of waves along the shore.
Lord! dost Thou see how dread a thing is death
When silence such as this is all it leaves?—
To watch in agony the parting breath
Till the fond eyes are closed, the dear voice still;
And know that not the wildest prayer can thrill
Thee to awake them, but our grief must fill
Alike the rosy morns, the rainy eves.
When silence such as this is all it leaves?—
To watch in agony the parting breath
Till the fond eyes are closed, the dear voice still;
And know that not the wildest prayer can thrill
Thee to awake them, but our grief must fill
Alike the rosy morns, the rainy eves.
Ah! Thou dost see; and not a pang is vain!—
Some joy of every anguish must be born;
Else this one planet's weight of loss and pain
Would stay the stars in sympathetic woe,
And make the suns move pale, and cold, and slow,
Till all was black and void, thy throne below,
And night shut down without a gleam of morn.
Some joy of every anguish must be born;
Else this one planet's weight of loss and pain
Would stay the stars in sympathetic woe,
And make the suns move pale, and cold, and slow,
Till all was black and void, thy throne below,
And night shut down without a gleam of morn.
But mark! the sun goes radiant to his goal
While winds make music o'er the laughing sea;
And, with his set, the starry host will roll
Celestial splendors over mead and main;
Lord! can thy worlds be glad, and death enchain?
Nay! 'tis but crowning for immortal reign
In the pure realm where all abide with thee.
While winds make music o'er the laughing sea;
And, with his set, the starry host will roll
Celestial splendors over mead and main;
Lord! can thy worlds be glad, and death enchain?
Nay! 'tis but crowning for immortal reign
In the pure realm where all abide with thee.
What star has seen the sun at cloudless noon?
What chrysalis knows aught of wings that soar!—
O blessed souls! how can I hope the boon
Of look or word from you, the glorified,
Until for me the shining gates swing wide?—
Welcome the day when the great deeps divide,
And we are one in life for evermore!
What chrysalis knows aught of wings that soar!—
O blessed souls! how can I hope the boon
Of look or word from you, the glorified,
Until for me the shining gates swing wide?—
Welcome the day when the great deeps divide,
And we are one in life for evermore!