THREE SONNETS IN MEMORIAM.
I.
DESPAIR—THE ABYSS.
O dread abyss, narrow, but dark and deep,
Still baffling all that men may do or dare
To read the secrets of thy jealous care,
The mystery that thy shuddering caverns keep,
Over thy cruel mouth the earth I heap,
Hiding my treasure like a miser there.
My hollow doubting voice I lift in prayer;
With ghastly lips I say: “’Tis but a sleep,
And I shall find my loved one freed from sorrow,
Glowing with love, and youth ineffable.”
O fool, the only sure thing thou canst borrow
From coming years is death, thou knowest well.
Yet even this is gain; then hail each morrow
That brings thee nearer to the self-same cell.
II.
QUESTIONING.
Beneath the leafless trees alone I stand,
Where we two stood in June. O loved one, where
Are now the radiant hopes that filled the air,
Circling around us swiftly like a band
Of smiling sisters, clasping hand in hand?
Dearer to me than all their visions fair
This chill December night, so thou wert there.
And hast thou sought with them some better land?
Would heaven be darkened for one form the less
From the bright throng who in His love rejoice?
From the celestial choir could not one voice,
Sweeter than all the rest, be spared to bless
My solitude? Say, dost thou sleep alone,
Voiceless, beneath the unrelenting stone?
III.
CONSOLATION.
Alone? Ah, no: beneath the earth’s fair crust
Assemble all the beautiful and good
Whose memory transfigures womanhood;
And kingly men are there, the brave, the just;
How sweet to mingle with that sacred dust!
Standing to-night where we so oft have stood,
Their fragrance fills the silent solitude—
Sweet flowers of human love and hope and trust.
Where’er thou art, O sister of my soul,
Treading with gleaming feet the streets of gold,
Or softly mingling with the forest mold,
Swift years shall bear me to the self-same goal,
Our radiant heads in the same aureole,
Or the same flower-roots thrill our ashes cold.