The sea that is life everlasting And death everlasting as life Abides not a pilot"s forecasting, Foretells not of peace or of strife.
The might of the night that was hidden Arises and darkens the day, A glory rebuked and forbidden, Time"s crown, and his prey.
No sweeter, no kindlier, no fairer, No lovelier a soul from its birth Wore ever a brighter and rarer Life"s raiment for life upon earth Than his who enkindled and cherished Art"s vestal and luminous flame, That dies not when kingdoms have perished In storm or in shame.
No braver, no trustier, no purer, No stronger and clearer a soul Bore witness more splendid and surer For manhood found perfect and whole Since man was a warrior and dreamer Than his who in hatred of wrong Would fain have arisen a redeemer By sword or by song.
Twin brethren in spirit, immortal As art and as love, which were one For you from the birthday whose portal First gave you to sight of the sun, To-day nor to-night nor to-morrow May bring you again from above, Drawn down by the spell of the sorrow Whose anguish is love.
No light rearising hereafter Shall lighten us here as of old When seasons were l.u.s.trous as laughter Of waves that are snowshine and gold.
The dawn that imbues and enkindles Life"s fluctuant and fugitive sea Dies down as the starshine that dwindles And cares not to be.
Men, mightier than death which divides us, Friends, dearer than sorrow can say, The light that is darkness and hides us Awhile from each other away Abides but awhile and endures not, We know, though the day be as night, For souls that forgetfulness lures not Till sleep be in sight.
The sleep that enfolds you, the slumber Supreme and eternal on earth, Whence ages of numberless number Shall bring us not back into birth, We know not indeed if it be not What no man hath known if it be, Life, quickened with light that we see not If spirits may see.
The love that would see and would know it Is even as the love of a child.
But the fire of the fame of the poet Who gazed on the past, and it smiled, But the light of the fame of the painter Whose hand was as morning"s in May, Death bids not be darker or fainter, Time casts not away.
We, left of them loveless and lonely, Who lived in the light of their love, Whose darkness desires it, we only, Who see them afar and above, So far, if we die not, above us, So lately no dearer than near, May know not of death if they love us, Of night if they hear.
We, stricken and darkling and living, Who loved them and love them, abide A day, and the gift of its giving, An hour, and the turn of its tide, When twilight and midnight and morrow Shall pa.s.s from the sight of the sun, And death be forgotten, and sorrow Discrowned and undone.
For us as for these will the breathless Brief minute arise and pa.s.s by: And if death be not utterly deathless, If love do not utterly die, From the life that is quenched as an ember The soul that aspires as a flame Can choose not but wholly remember Love, lovelier than fame.
Though sure be the seal of their glory And fairer no fame upon earth, Though never a leaf shall grow h.o.a.ry Of the crowns that were given them at birth, While time as a va.s.sal doth duty To names that he towers not above, More perfect in price and in beauty For ever is love.
The night is upon us, and anguish Of longing that yearns for the dead.
But mourners that faint not or languish, That veil not and bow not the head, Take comfort to heart if a token Be given them of comfort to be: While darkness on earth is unbroken, Light lives on the sea.