Poems (Davidson)/O that the Eagle's Wing were mine

by Lucretia Maria Davidson

O THAT THE EAGLE'S WING WERE MINE!

O that the eagle's wing were mine!
 I'd soar above the dreary earth;
I'd spread my wings, and rise to join
 The immortal fountain of my birth.

For what is joy? how soon it fades,—
 The childish vision of an hour!
Though warm and brilliant are its shades,
 'Tis but a frail and fading flower.

And what is hope? it is a light
 Which leads us on deluding ever,
Till lost amid the shades of night
 We sink, and then it flies forever!

And what is love? it is a dream,
 A brilliant fable framed by youth;
A bubble dancing on life's stream,
 And sinking 'neath the eye of truth.

And what are honor, glory, fame,
 But Death's dark watchwords to the grave?
The victim dies, and lo! his name
 Is lost in life's swift rolling wave.

And what are all the joys of life,
 But vanity, and toil, and woe?
What but a bitter cup of grief,
 With dregs of sin and death below?

This world is but the first dark gate
 Unfolded to the waking soul;
But Death unerring, led by Fate,
 Shall heaven's bright portals backward roll

Then shall this unchained spirit fly
 On to the God who gave it life;
Rejoicing as it soars on high,
 Released from danger, doubt, and strife.

There will it pour its anthems forth,
 Bending before its Maker's throne,—
The great I Am, who gave it birth,
 The Almighty God, the dread Unknown.