Oh, hush thee, Earth! Fold thou thy weary palms!
The sunset glory fadeth in the west; The purple splendor leaves the mountain's crest; Gray twilight comes as one who beareth alms,
Darkness and silence and delicious calms.
Take thou the gift, O Earth! On Night's soft breast Lay thy tired head and sink to dreamless rest, Lulled by the music of her evening psalms.
Cool darkness, silence, and the holy stars, Long shadows when the pale moon soars on high, One far lone night-bird singing from the hill, And utter rest from Day's discordant jars;
O soul of mine! when the long night draws nigh Will such deep peace thine inmost being fill?
JULIA C.R. DORR.
"Animula, vagula, blandula."
Life! I know not what thou art, But know that thou and I must part;
And when, or how, or where we met
I own to me's a secret yet.
But this I know, when thou art fled,
Where'er they lay these limbs, this head,
No clod so valueless shall be,
As all that then remains of me.
O, whither, whither dost thou fly,
Where bend unseen thy trackless course,
And in this strange divorce, Ah, tell where I must seek this compound I?
To the vast ocean of empyreal flame,
From whence thy essence came, Dost thou thy flight pursue, when freed From matter's base uncumbering weed? Or dost thou, hid from sight, Wait, like some spell-bound knight, Through blank, oblivious years the appointed hour
To break thy trance and reassume thy power?
Yet canst thou, without thought or feeling be?
O, say what art thou, when no more thou'rt thee?
Life! we've been long together,
Through pleasant and through cloudy weather;
'Tis hard to part when friends are dear,— Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear: Then steal away, give little warning, Choose thine own time; Say not Good Night,—but in some brighter clime
Bid me Good Morning.