| |
| BEYOND the sunset and the amber sea | |
| To the lone depths of ether, cold and bare, | |
| Thy influence, soul of all tranquillity, | |
| Hallows the earth and awes the reverent air; | |
| Yon laughing rivulet quells its silvery tune; | 5 |
| The pines, like priestly watchers tall and grim, | |
| Stand mute against the pensive twilight dim, | |
| Breathless to hail the advent of the moon; | |
| From the white beach the ocean falls away | |
| Coyly, and with a thrill; the sea-birds dart | 10 |
| Ghostlike from out the distance, and depart | |
| With a gray fleetness, moaning the dead day; | |
| The wings of Silence, overfolding space, | |
| Droop with dusk grandeur from the heavenly steep, | |
| And through the stillness gleams thy starry face,— | 15 |
| Serenest Angel, Sleep! | |
| |
| Come! woo me here, amid these flowery charms; | |
| Breathe on my eyelids; press thy odorous lips | |
| Close to mine own; enwreathe me in thine arms, | |
| And cloud my spirit with thy sweet eclipse; | 20 |
| No dreams! no dreams! keep back the motley throng,— | |
| For such are girded round with ghastly might, | |
| And sing low burdens of despondent song, | |
| Decked in the mockery of a lost delight; | |
| I ask oblivion’s balsam! the mute peace | 25 |
| Toned to still breathings, and the gentlest sighs; | |
| Not music woven of rarest harmonies | |
| Could yield me such elysium of release: | |
| The tones of earth are weariness,—not only | |
| ’Mid the loud mart, and in the walks of trade, | 30 |
| But where the mountain Genius broodeth lonely, | |
| In the cool pulsing of the sylvan shade; | |
| Then bear me far into thy noiseless land; | |
| Surround me with thy silence, deep on deep, | |
| Until serene I stand | 35 |
| Close by a duskier country, and more grand | |
| Mysterious solitude, than thine, O Sleep! | |
| |
| As he whose veins a feverous frenzy burns, | |
| Whose life-blood withers in the fiery drouth, | |
| Feebly and with a languid longing turns | 40 |
| To the spring breezes gathering from the south, | |
| So, feebly and with languid longing, I | |
| Turn to thy wished nepenthe, and implore | |
| The golden dimness, the purpureal gloom | |
| Which haunt thy poppied realm, and make the shore | 45 |
| Of thy dominion balmy with all bloom. | |
| In the clear gulfs of thy serene profound, | |
| Worn passions sink to quiet, sorrows pause, | |
| Suddenly fainting to still-breathèd rest: | |
| Thou own’st a magical atmosphere, which awes | 50 |
| The memories seething in the turbulent breast; | |
| Which, muffling up the sharpness of all sound | |
| Of mortal lamentation, solely bears | |
| The silvery minor toning of our woe, | |
| All mellowed to harmonious underflow, | 55 |
| Soft as the sad farewells of dying years,— | |
| Lulling as sunset showers that veil the west, | |
| And sweet as Love’s last tears | |
| When over-welling hearts do mutely weep: | |
| O griefs! O waitings! your tempestuous madness, | 60 |
| Merged in a regal quietude of sadness, | |
| Wins a strange glory by the streams of sleep! | |
| |
| Then woo me here, amid these flowery charms; | |
| Breathe on my eyelids, press thy odorous lips | |
| Close to mine own; enfold me in thine arms, | 65 |
| And cloud my spirit with thy sweet eclipse; | |
| And while from waning depth to depth I fall, | |
| Down lapsing to the utmost depths of all, | |
| Till wan forgetfulness obscurely stealing | |
| Creeps like an incantation on the soul, | 70 |
| And o’er the slow ebb of my conscious life | |
| Dies the thin flush of the last conscious feeling, | |
| And like abortive thunder, the dull roll | |
| Of sullen passions ebbs far, far away,— | |
| O Angel! loose the chords which cling to strife, | 75 |
| Sever the gossamer bondage of my breath, | |
| And let me pass, gently as winds in May, | |
| From the dim realm which owns thy shadowy sway, | |
| To thy diviner sleep, O sacred Death! | |
| |
