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Miscellaneous Poems.
Star-crowned, thou dost possess the deepsOf God, and thy white body sleepsWhere the lone pine for ever keeps Patient watch beside it.
Poet! underneath the turf, Soft thou sleepest, free from morrow;Thou hast struggled through the surf Of wild thoughts, and want, and sorrow;Now, beneath the moaning pine, Full of rest thy body lieth,While, far up in pure sunshine,Underneath a sky divine, Her loosed wings thy spirit trieth!Oft she strove to spread them here,But they were too white and clearFor our dingy atmosphere.
Thy body findeth ample roomIn its still and grassy tomb By the silent river;But thy spirit found the earthNarrow for the mighty birth
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