L. E. L.'S LAST QUESTION.
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It is weak, it is cold,
The rein drops from its hold—
It sinks hack, with the death in its face!
On, chariot—on, soul,—
Ye are all the more fleet—
Be alone at the goal
Of the strange and the sweet!
The rein drops from its hold—
It sinks hack, with the death in its face!
On, chariot—on, soul,—
Ye are all the more fleet—
Be alone at the goal
Of the strange and the sweet!
Love us, God, love us, man! we believe, we achieve—
Let us love, let us live,
For the acts correspond—
We are glorious—and die!
And again on the knee of a mild Mystery
That smiles with a change,
Here we lie!
O Death, O Beyond,
Thou art sweet, thou art strange!
Let us love, let us live,
For the acts correspond—
We are glorious—and die!
And again on the knee of a mild Mystery
That smiles with a change,
Here we lie!
O Death, O Beyond,
Thou art sweet, thou art strange!
L. E. L.'s Last Question.
"Do you think of me as I think of you?"
(From her Poem written during the Voyage to the Cape.)
(From her Poem written during the Voyage to the Cape.)
"Do you think of me as I think of you,
My friends, my friends?"—She said it from the sea,
The English minstrel in her minstrelsy;
While, under brighter skies than erst she knew,
Her heart grew dark,—and groped there as the blind,
To reach, across the waves, friends left behind—
"Do you think of me as I think of you?"
My friends, my friends?"—She said it from the sea,
The English minstrel in her minstrelsy;
While, under brighter skies than erst she knew,
Her heart grew dark,—and groped there as the blind,
To reach, across the waves, friends left behind—
"Do you think of me as I think of you?"
It seemed not much to ask—As I of you?—
We all do ask the same. No eyelids cover
Within the meekest eyes, that question over,—
And little in the world, the Loving do,
We all do ask the same. No eyelids cover
Within the meekest eyes, that question over,—
And little in the world, the Loving do,
