Ultima Thule/The Chamber over the Gate
THE CHAMBER OVER THE GATE.
Is it so far from theeThou canst no longer see,In the Chamber over the Gate,That old man desolate,Weeping and wailing soreFor his son, who is no more? O Absalom, my son!
Is it so long agoThat cry of human woeFrom the walled city came,Calling on his dear name,That it has died awayIn the distance of to-day? O Absalom, my son!
There is no far or near,There is neither there nor here,There is neither soon nor late,In that Chamber over the Gate,Nor any long agoTo that cry of human woe, O Absalom, my son!
From the ages that are pastThe voice sounds like a blast,Over seas that wreck and drown,Over tumult of traffic and town;And from ages yet to beCome the echoes back to me, O Absalom, my son!
Somewhere at every hourThe watchman on the towerLooks forth, and sees the fleetApproach of the hurrying feet Of messengers, that bearThe tidings of despair. O Absalom, my son!
He goes forth from the door,Who shall return no more.With him our joy departs;The light goes out in our hearts;In the Chamber over the GateWe sit disconsolate. O Absalom, my son!
That 't is a common griefBringeth but slight relief;Ours is the bitterest loss,Ours is the heaviest cross;And forever the cry will be"Would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son!"