Page:Poems (IA poemslowell00lowe).pdf/121

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A Dirge.
103
Thy curse it was to see and hearBeyond to-day's scant hemisphere,Beyond all mists of doubt and fear,Into a life more true and clear,— And dearly thou didst rue it.
"Thou sow'st no gold, and shalt not reap!"Muttered Earth, turning in her sleep;"Come home to the eternal deep!"Murmured a voice, and a wide sweepOf wings through thy soul's hush did creep, As of thy doom o'erflying;It seemed as thy strong heart would leapOut of thy breast, and thou didst weep,But not with fear of dying;Men could not fathom thy deep fears,They could not understand thy tears,The hoarded agony of years Of bitter self-denying;So once, when, high above the spheres,Thy spirit sought its starry peers,It came not back to face the jeers Of brothers who denied it;
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