Poems (Denver)/The Land of Forgetfulness

by Mary Caroline Denver

THE LAND OF FORGETFULNESS.

Toward the dim land of forgetfulness
 Our barques are hastening fast;
We've reached the topmost wave of life,
 To plunge into the past!
Far on the pale horizon's brink
 Their sails are growing less;
A little while, and they will sink
 Into sheer nothingness!
Not the faint memory of a dream
 Shall on their pathway lie,
Nor the reflection of a beam
 From out the summer sky.

And those we wept to leave behind,
 Whose eyes with tears were wet,
Whose faces in our hearts were shrined,
 How soon will they forget!
Their voices yet again will ring
 On less familiar ears,
The songs we sung shall others sing—
 Nor waken them to tears!
And yet, they too, are gliding fast
 Toward that deserted shore
Whose anchoring haven is the past—
 Whose language is no more!

In the dim land of forgetfulness
 How can we ever dwell,
Where not a sunbeam comes to bless
 Nor summer breezes swell!
Off from its dismal shores no sounds
 In hollow murmurs come,
The silence is as deep, profound,
 As if the earth were dumb!
No echoing music fills with love
 The dreary atmosphere;
No azure arches smile above,
 No midnight stars appear!

Yet if our barques float side by side
 To that returnless shore,
If on the same calm seas we glide,
 Hear the same tempests roar;
What matter, if we be at last
 To after-times unknown,
A drop within the ocean cast—
 A grave without a stone!
If thou art only there to bless
 When past life's troubled sea,
E'en the dim shores of forgetfulness
 Will not unwelcome be.