OVER the river they beckon to me OVER THE RIVER. Loved ones who've passed to the further side; The gleam of their snowy robes I see, But their voices are lost in the dashing tide. There's one with ringlets of sunny gold, And eyes the reflection of heaven's own blue; And the pale mist hid him from mortal view; My brother stands waiting to welcome me! Over the river the boatman pale Carried another, the household pet; Her brown curls waved in the gentle galeDarling Minnie! I see her yet. She crossed on her bosom her dimpled hands, And fearlessly entered the phantom bark; We felt it glide from the silver sands, And all our sunshine grew strangely dark; We know she is safe on the further side, Where all the ransomed and angels beOver the river, the mystic river, My childhood's idol is waiting for me. For none return from those quiet shores, And catch a gleam of the snowy sail; And lo! they have passed from our yearning heart, That hides from our vision the gates of day I shall one day stand by the water cold I shall watch for a gleam of the flapping sail, I shall pass from sight with the boatman pale, I shall know the loved who have gone before, NANCY PRIEST WAKEFIELD. OOKING calmly yet humbly for the close of my mortal career, which cannot be far distant, I reverently thank God for the blessings vouchsafed me in the past, and with an awe that is not fear, and a consciousness of demerit that does not exclude hope, await the opening before my steps of the gates of the eternal world. HORACE GREELEY. HE One remains, the many change and pass; Heaven's light forever shines, Earth's shadows fly; Life, like a dome of many-colored glass, Stains the white radiance of Eternity, Until Death tramples it to fragments.-Die, If thou wouldst be with that which thou dost seek! Follow where all is fled!-Rome's azure sky, Flowers, ruins, statues, music-words are weak The glory they transfuse with fitting truth to speak. Why linger, why turn back, why shrink, my heart? Thy hopes are gone before: from all things here They have departed; thou shouldst now depart! A light is passed from the revolving year, And man and woman; and what still is dear Attracts to crush, repels to make thee wither. The soft sky smiles,-the low wind whispers near: "T is Adonais calls! oh, hasten thither, No more let Life divide what Death can join together. That Light whose smile kindles the universe, The breath whose might I have invoked in song I am borne darkly, fearfully, afar; While, burning through the inmost veil of heaven, The soul of Adonais, like a star, Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are. PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. BEYOND THE HILLS. BEYOND the hills where suns go down, And brightly beckon as they go, I see the land of fair renown, The land which I so soon shall know. Above the dissonance of time, And discord of its angry words, I hear the everlasting chime, The music of unjarring chords. I bid it welcome; and my haste To join it cannot brook delay, O, song of morning, come at last, O, song of light, and dawn, and bliss, Thy soul-entrancing melodies! Glad song of this disburdened earth, Which holy voices then shall sing; Praise for creation's second birth, And glory to creation's King! HORATIUS BONAR. |