170
THE LAND OF FORGETFULNESS.
Their voices yet again will ring
On less familiar ears,
The songs we sung shall others sing—
Nor waken them to tears!
And yet, they too, are gliding fast
Toward that deserted shore
Whose anchoring haven is the past—
Whose language is no more!
On less familiar ears,
The songs we sung shall others sing—
Nor waken them to tears!
And yet, they too, are gliding fast
Toward that deserted shore
Whose anchoring haven is the past—
Whose language is no more!
In the dim land of forgetfulness
How can we ever dwell,
Where not a sunbeam comes to bless
Nor summer breezes swell!
Off from its dismal shores no sounds
In hollow murmurs come,
The silence is as deep, profound,
As if the earth were dumb!
No echoing music fills with love
The dreary atmosphere;
No azure arches smile above,
No midnight stars appear!
How can we ever dwell,
Where not a sunbeam comes to bless
Nor summer breezes swell!
Off from its dismal shores no sounds
In hollow murmurs come,
The silence is as deep, profound,
As if the earth were dumb!
No echoing music fills with love
The dreary atmosphere;
No azure arches smile above,
No midnight stars appear!
Yet if our barques float side by side
To that returnless shore,
If on the same calm seas we glide,
Hear the same tempests roar;
What matter, if we be at last
To after-times unknown,
A drop within the ocean cast—
A grave without a stone!
To that returnless shore,
If on the same calm seas we glide,
Hear the same tempests roar;
What matter, if we be at last
To after-times unknown,
A drop within the ocean cast—
A grave without a stone!
