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How hard he breathes! over the snow
Shake hands, before you die.
His face is growing sharp and thin.
And waiteth at the door.
There's a new foot on the floor, my friend,
TO J. S.
THE wind, that beats the mountain, blows
And me this knowledge bolder made,
"T is strange that those we lean on most, Those in whose laps our limbs are nursed, Fall into shadow, soonest lost:
Those we love first are taken first.
God gives us love.
Something to love
He lends us; but, when love is grown
In grief I am not all unlearn'd;
Once thro' mine own doors Death did pass;
This is the curse of time.
He will not smile
not speak to me
Two years his chair is seen
Your loss is rarer; for this star
Rose with you thro' a little arc
I knew your brother: his mute dust
I have not look'd upon you nigh,
Since that dear soul hath fall'n asleep,
I will not tell you not to weep.
And tho' mine own eyes fill with dew,
'Weep, weeping dulls the inward pain."
Let Grief be her own mistress still.
I will not say "God's ordinance
His memory long will live alone
In all our hearts, as mournful light
And dwells in heaven half the night.
Vain solace! Memory standing near
Cast down her eyes, and in her throat
I wrote I know not what. In truth,
For he too was a friend to me:
Both are my friends, and my true breast
Words weaker than your grief would make
The place of him that sleeps in peace.
Sleep sweetly, tender heart, in peace:
Sleep till the end, true soul and sweet.
Nothing comes to thee new or strange. Sleep full of rest from head to feet;
Lie still, dry dust, secure of change.
You ask me, why, tho' ill at ease,
Within this region I subsist, Whose spirits falter in the mist, And languish for the purple seas?
It is the land that freemen till,
That sober-suited Freedom chose,
A man may speak the thing he will;
A land of settled government,
A land of just and old renown, Where Freedom broadens slowly down From precedent to precedent:
Where faction seldom gathers head,
But by degrees to fulness wrought, The strength of some diffusive thought Hath time and space to work and spread.
Should banded unions persecute
Tho' Power should make from land to land
Yet waft me from the harbor-mouth,
Wild wind! I seek a warmer sky,
Of old sat Freedom on the heights,
The thunders breaking at her feet: Above her shook the starry lights:
She heard the torrents meet.
There in her place she did rejoice,
Self-gather'd in her prophet-mind, But fragments of her mighty voice Came rolling on the wind.
Then stept she down thro' town and field To mingle with the human race, And part by part to men reveal'd
The fulness of her face
Grave mother of majestic works,
Her open eyes desire the truth.
The wisdom of a thousand years Is in them. May perpetual youth
Keep dry their light from tears;
That her fair form may stand and shine,
The falsehood of extremes !
LOVE thou thy land, with love far-brought
True love turn'd round on fixed poles,
Love, that endures not sordid ends, For English natures, freemen, friends, Thy brothers and immortal souls.
But pamper not a hasty time,
Nor feed with crude imaginings
The herd, wild hearts and feeble wings, That every sophister can lime.
Deliver not the tasks of might
To weakness, neither hide the ray
From those, not blind, who wait for day, Tho' sitting girt with doubtful light.
Make knowledge circle with the winds;