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NO MORE.
217
In the glad song with kindred lips to blend,
Or join the household laughter by the blaze—
No more!
Through woods that shadowed our first years to rove,
With all our native music in the air;
To watch the sunset with the eyes we love,
And turn, and read our own heart's answer there,—
No more!
Words of despair! yet earth's, all earth's—the woe
Their passion breathes—the desolately deep!
That sound in Heaven—oh! image then the flow
Of gladness in its tones—to part, to weep—
No more!
To watch, in dying hope, affection's wane,
To see the beautiful from life depart,
To wear impatiently a secret chain,
To waste the untold riches of the heart—
No more!
