I will stand once more beside thee, I will visit thee in dreams, I will hear the music of thy voice, In never failing streams; I will search for shy forget-me-nots, Through marshes wet and low, And climb the rocky cliffs to where The wild blue violets grow.
I will challenge distant echo, Till my voice hath lost its sound, And the Ariel-foe is silent too, In all the rocks around. I will bathe once more my fevered brow In thy transparent waves; I will smile with thee on living ones, And weep beside thy graves.
Alas! for old affection! Shall I call for it in vain, Will it send no echo to my soul, No answer back again? Are the ghosts of joyous memories All that is left to me, To cheer me, when the weary heart Hath almost ceased to he?
In my lonely vigil hours, I have thought of thee, until I heard the rushing of thy streams Through all my bosom thrill. And my spirit seemed a thing of air, Borne from the earth away, While the sound of pinions sweeping by, Broke on the ear of day.
Give me some kindly message, From the worshiped ones of old; I cannot think that every heart Is cold, is deathly cold! Enough there are within the grave, Enough in distant climes, To bring a chill upon a heart That dreams of olden times.
I have gazed upon thy heaven, And, perchance, have shed a tear, Seeing with grief some exiled star Descend and disappear. Was it a fallen child of light, Flung from the heaven above— From everlasting happiness, From everlasting love?
I have gazed upon thy mountains, And the fresh green earth below; I have pressed thy roses to my lips, And twined them round my brow; I have seen that earth below so fair, The heaven so bright above, That the world seemed full of poetry, As my heart was full of love.
They are passed; those happy moments!— They are passed, to come no more; And like a weary mariner, I stand upon the shore, And think upon that distant land, Where waiting hearts there be; Or, with a shudder, deem perchance No eyes watch there for me!
I would have some simple token, Some old familiar strain; I would have some softly-murmuring voice Breathe "Mary" once again! Then, methinks, my soul within me, Would rejoice in tears once more, And I would mingle with thine own My voice forevermore.
And! when earthly sorrow, And when earthly joy is past, Within some dear familiar shade, I'd lay me down at hist. I would not fill a stranger's grave, When being's task is o'er, But pillow on thy breast my head, Forever, evermore!
