An angel asked me to give him
My whole life's dearest cost;
And in adding mine to his treasures
I knew they could never be lost.
To his heart I gave the gold,
Though little my own had known;
To his eyes what tenderness
From youth in mine had grown!
I gave him all my buoyant
Hope for my future years;
I gave him whatever melody
My voice had steeped in tears.
Upon the shore of darkness
His drifted body lies.
He is dead, and I stand beside him,
With his beauty in my eyes.
I am like those withered petals
We see on a winter day,
That gladly gave their color
In the happy summer away.
I am glad I lavished my worthiest
To fashion his greater worth;
Since he will live in heaven,
I shall lie content in the earth.
LOST REALITY.
O soul of life, 't is thee we long to hear,
Thine eyes we seek for, and thy touch we dream;
Lost from our days, thou art a spirit near,--
Life needs thine eloquence, and ways supreme.
More real than we who but a semblance wear,
We see thee not, because thou wilt not seem!
CLOSING CHORDS.
I.
_Death's Eloquence._
When I shall go
Into the narrow home that leaves
No room for wringing of the hands and hair,
And feel the pressing of the walls which bear
The heavy sod upon my heart that grieves,
(As the weird earth rolls on),
Then I shall know
What is the power of destiny.
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