AFTER MANY YEARS.
If e'er from holier heights there sped
One attribute divine, To rest upon a mortal head,—
That head, dear love! was thine.
True worth beyond expression towers;
Excess in language mars;— What artist e'er inspired the flowers,
Or lighted up the stars?
[TENNYSON.]
ANSWER TO "CROSSING THE BAR."
Clear-shining, evening star!
We make no moan for thee Who sightest, 'yond the bar, Blest immortality!
Yet, at thy farewell tone,
Thou glorious poet-king! The tears unbidden spring From peoples of each zone.
So long, from loftier sphere,
Thy pure and lustrous rays Have lit earth's sombre ways:— No sky may own thy peer.
Oh, never-dying song!
Oh, princely legacy! Till life shall living be Thou'lt thrill, the years along.
Mist wreathe, or ocean foam;
The beacon shineth clear, The joy-bells sound anear, Beyond the bar is—Home!