Page:The college beautiful, and other poems.djvu/80

The spirit still may miss of rest,
Though oft the daisies blow
Above the hushed and darkened breast
Shut close from sun and snow.

Those halls, all curiously planned,
Lie void, but whither thence
Hath fled the tenant ? Shall the wand
Of peace her dews dispense

In equal share to hearts that beat
Undaunted till the even,
And rebels whose unbidden feet
Would storm the heights of heaven?

Perchance no soul shall taste of sleep
Until its task be sped.
The charge the living failed to keep
Goes over to the dead.

One perfect and mysterious Will
Threads all this mortal maze,
And calls each human voice to fill
Some silent note of praise.

The shadowy, as the sunlit hours,
That holy Will confess.
Death holds no secret slumber-bowers
For our unfaithfulness.