And the strange inborn sense of coming ill, That ofttimes whispers to the haunted breast, In a low tone which nought can drown or still, Midst feasts and melodies a secret guest; Whence doth that murmur wake, that shadow fall? Why shakes the spirit thus?-'tis mystery all! Darkly we move-we press upon the brink Let us walk humbly on, but undismay'd! Humbly--for knowledge strives in vain to feel Th' immortal being with our dust entwin'd?- THE DEPARTED. Thou shalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world-with kings, All in one mighty sepulchre. AND shrink ye from the way BRYANT. To the spirit's distant shore ?— Earth's mightiest men, in arm'd array, Are thither gone before. The warrior kings, whose banner Flew far as eagles fly, They are gone where swords avail them not, From the feast of victory. And the seers who sat of yore By orient palm or wave, They have pass'd with all their starry lorestill fear the grave? Can ye We fear! we fear !-the sunshine Is joyous to behold, And we reck not of the buried kings, Ye shrink!-the bards whose lays Have made your deep hearts burn, They have left the sun, and the voice of praise, For the land whence none return. And the beautiful, whose record Is the verse that cannot die, They too are gone, with their glorious bloom, From the love of human eye. Would ye not join that throng Of the earth's departed flowers, And the masters of the mighty song Those songs are high and holy, But they vanquish not our fear; Not from our path those flowers are gone We fain would linger here! Linger then yet awhile, As the last leaves on the bough !— Ye have lov'd the light of many a smile, There have been sweet singing voices In walks that now are still, your There are seats left void in your earthly homes, Which none again may fill. |