Page:Poems Welby.djvu/73

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65
Swift stars shoot round thee in thy rapid flight,
Dropping like gems from midnight's blue profound;
Swept on with thee, through vast immensity,
Each blazing sphere in its swift course revolves,
The sunny streams go singing to the sea,
And the blue wave upon the beach dissolves
Like woman's hopes, and manhood's high resolves.

Even every heart-beat in the bosom's cell
Steals o'er the spirit like a funeral toll;
Each solemn stroke is like a passing-bell,
Heard 'mid the hushes of the startled soul.
The waves of feeling, tossing to and fro
Like ocean-billows restless and sublime,
The crimson life-drops as they ebb and flow,
And the quick pulse with its unequal chime,
All beat with muffled strokes the march of Time.

Each year, that seems so long to us, to thee
Is but one sweep of thy majestic plume,
Bearing pale millions to the eternal sea,
Through the dim pathway of the midnight tomb;
Thou touch'st the young and beautiful, and lo!
Gone are the charms thou never canst restore,
The fair and glossy tress turns white as snow,
And the young voice, that warbles o'er and o'er,
Drops its low bird-like note, and sings no more.

Yet, in the rosy dawn of childhood's day,
How swift the joyous moments seem to flee!