The stars come nightly to the sky;

The tidal wave comes to the sea;
Nor time, nor space, nor deep, nor high,
Can keep my own away from me.

John Burroughs [1837

IN THE DARK

ALL moveless stand the ancient cedar-trees
Along the drifted sand-hills where they grow;
And from the dark west comes a wandering breeze,
And waves them to and fro.

A murky darkness lies along the sand,

Where bright the sunbeams of the morning shone,
And the eye vainly seeks, by sea and land,
Some light to rest upon.

No large, pale star its glimmering vigil keeps;
An inky sea reflects an inky sky;

And the dark river, like a serpent, creeps
To where its black piers lie.

Strange salty odors through the darkness steal,
And through the dark, the ocean-thunders roll;
Thick darkness gathers, stifling, till I feel
Its weight upon my soul.

I stretch my hands out in the empty air;
I strain my eyes into the heavy night;
Blackness of darkness!-Father, hear my prayer!
Grant me to see the light!

George Arnold [1834-1865]

LAST VERSES

WHEN I beneath the cold red earth am sleeping,
Life's fever o'er,

Will there for me be any bright eye weeping
That I'm no more?

Will there be any heart still memory keeping
Of heretofore?

One sigh-and then the lib'rant morn
Of perfect day,

When my free spirit, newly born,

Will soar away!

One pang-and I shall rend the thrall

Where grief abides,

And generous Death will show me all

That now he hides;

And, lucid in that second birth,

I shall discern

What all the sages of the earth

Have died to learn.

One motion-and the stream is crossed,

So dark, so deep!

And I shall triumph, or be lost

In endless sleep.

Then, onward! Whatsoe'er my fate,

I shall not care!

Nor Sin nor Sorrow, Love nor Hate

Can touch me there.

William Winter [1836

WHEN I HAVE GONE WEIRD WAYS

WHEN I have finished with this episode,
Left the hard, uphill road,

And gone weird ways to seek another load,
Oh, friends, regret me not, nor weep for me,
Child of Infinity!

Nor dig a grave, nor rear for me a tomb
To say with lying writ: "Here in the gloom
He who loved bigness takes a narrow room,
Content to pillow here his weary head,
For he is dead."

But give my body to the funeral pyre,
And bid the laughing fire,

Eager and strong and swift, like my desire,

Scatter my subtle essence into space,
Free me of time and place.

"

OF LIFE

at death doth kill,

lit for me,

that I may rightly see

and utterly

fil.

that blooms and dies,

g frost that slays

and trusting love betrays;
song of praise

ise.

ge, foul or fair,

my banners furl

le, or wave in angry whirl,

nd the gates of pearl,

pred there.

Charles Warren Stoddard [1843-1909]

TTA! THALATTA!”

THE TEN THOUSAND

he summit of my years;

the camp, the march, the strife,

and the desert; vast, afar,

eary way, behold! the Sea!

The sea o'erswept by clouds and winds and wings,
By thoughts and wishes manifold, whose breath
Is freshness and whose mighty pulse is peace.
Palter no question of the dim Beyond;
Cut loose the bark; such voyage itself is rest,
Majestic motion, unimpeded scope,

A widening heaven, a current without care.
Eternity! Deliverance, Promise, Course!
Time-tired souls salute thee from the shore.

Joseph Brownlee Brown [1824-1888]

REQUIEM

HUSH your prayers, 'tis no saintly soul
Comes fainting back from the foughten field;
Carry me forth on my broken shield;
Trumpet and drum shall my requiem yield--
Silence the bells that toll.

Dig no hole in the ground for me:

Though my body be made of mold and must,
Ne'er in the earth shall my dead bones rust;
Give my corse to the flame's white lust,
And sink my ashes at sea.

Recking still with the sweat of the strife,
Never a prayer have I to say

(My lips long since have forgotten the way)
Save this: "I have sorrowed sore in my day-
But I thank Thee, God, for my life!"

OUT of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.