The Miserere
Not of the earth that music! all things fade;
Vanish the pictured walls! and, one by one,
The starry candles silently expire!
And now, O Jesus! round that silent cross
A moment's pause, a hush as of the grave.
Now rises slow a silver mist of sound,
And all the heavens break out in drops of grief;
A rain of sobbing sweetness, swelling, dying,
Voice into voice inweaving with sweet throbs,
And fluttering pulses of impassioned moan, -
Veiled voices, in whose wailing there is awe,
And mysteries of love and agony,
A yearning anguish of celestial souls,
A shiver as of wings trembling the air,
As if God's shining doves, his spotless birds,
Wailed with a nightingale's heart-break of grief,
In this their starless night, when for our sins
Their sun, their life, their love, hangs darkly there,
Like a slain lamb, bleeding his life away!
Only A Year
One year ago,--a ringing voice,
A clear blue eye,
And clustering curls of sunny hair,
Too fair to die.
Only a year,--no voice, no smile,
No glance of eye,
No clustering curls of golden hair,
Fair but to die!
One year ago,--what loves, what schemes
Far into life!
What joyous hopes, what high resolves,
What generous strife!
The silent picture on the wall,
The burial-stone,
Of all that beauty, life, and joy,
Remain alone!
One year,--one year,--one little year,
And so much gone!
And yet the even flow of life
Moves calmly on.
The grave grows green, the flowers bloom fair,
Above that head;
No sorrowing tint of leaf or spray
Says he is dead.
No pause or hush of merry birds
That sing above
Tells us how coldly sleeps below
The form we love.
Where hast thou been this year, beloved?
What hast thou seen,--
What visions fair, what glorious life,
Where hast thou been?
The veil! the veil! so thin, so strong!
'Twixt us and thee;
The mystic veil! when shall it fall,
That we may see?
Not dead, not sleeping, not even gone,
But present still,
And waiting for the coming hour
Of God's sweet will.
Lord of the living and the dead,
Our Saviour dear!
We lay in silence at thy feet
This sad, sad year.
The Other World
It lies around us like a cloud,
A world we do not see;
Yet the sweet closing of an eye
May bring us there to be.
Its gentle breezes fan our cheek;
Amid our worldly cares,
Its gentle voices whisper love,
And mingle with our prayers.
Sweet hearts around us throb and beat,
Sweet helping hands are stirred,
And palpitates the veil between
With breathings almost heard.
The silence, awful, sweet, and calm,
They have no power to break;
For mortal words are not for them
To utter or partake.
So thin, so soft, so sweet, they glide,
So near to press they seem,
They lull us gently to our rest,
They melt into our dream.
And in the hush of rest they bring
'T is easy now to see
How lovely and how sweet a pass
The hour of death may be; -
To close the eye, and close the ear,
Wrapped in a trance of bliss,
And, gently drawn in loving arms,
To swoon to that - from this, -
Scarce knowing if we wake or sleep,
Scarce asking where we are,
To feel all evil sink away,
All sorrow and all care.
Sweet souls around us! watch us still;
Press nearer to our side;
Into our thoughts, into our prayers,
With gentle helpings glide.
Let death between us be as naught,
A dried and vanished stream;
Your joy be the reality,
Our suffering life the dream.
