When the chain shall at last be broken,
The window set wide;
And I step in the largeness and freedom
Of sunlight outside;
Shall I wander in vain for my country?
Shall I seek and not find?
Shall I cry for the bars that encage me,
The fetters that bind?
The Two Terrors.
TWO terrors fright my soul by night and day:
The first is Life, and with her come the years;
A weary, winding train of maidens they,
With forward-fronting eyes, too sad for tears;
Upon whose kindred faces, blank and grey,
The shadow of a kindred woe appears.
Death is the second terror; who shall say
What form beneath the shrouding mantle nears?
Which way she turn, my soul finds no relief,
My smitten soul may not be comforted;
Alternately she swings from grief to grief,
And, poised between them, sways from dread to dread.
For there she dreads because she knows; and here,
Because she knows not, inly faints with fear.
The Promise of Sleep.
Put the sweet thoughts from out thy mind,
The dreams from out thy breast;
No joy for thee—but thou shalt find
Thy rest.
ALL day I could not work for woe,
I could not work nor rest;
The trouble drove me to and fro,
Like a leaf on the storm’s breast.
Night came and saw my sorrow cease;
Sleep in the chamber stole;
Peace crept about my limbs, and peace
Fell on my stormy soul.