Poems (Cary)/Dying Song

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DYING SONG.
Leave me, O leave me! my o'erwearied feet, O my beloved! may walk no more with thee;For I am standing where the circles meet That mortals name, Time and Eternity.
Tell me, O tell me not of summer flowers In vales where once our steps together trod;Even though I now behold the shining towers That rise above the city of our God.
I know that the wide fields of heaven are fair— That on their borders grief is all forgot;That the white tents of beauty, too, are there— But how shall I be blessed where thou art not?
Over the green hills, that are only crossed By drifts of light, and choruses of glee,How shall I wander like a spirit lost, And fallen and ruined, missing, mourning thee!
If any wrong of mine, or thought, or said, Has given thee pain or sorrow, O forgive!As wilt thou not, my friend, when I am dead, And by my errors better learn to live.
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There is not found in all the pleasant past, One memory of thee that I deplore,Or wish not to be in my heart at last, When I shall fall asleep to wake no more.
Then leave, oh leave me! though I see the light Of heaven's sweet clime, and hear the angel's call,Where there is never any cloud nor night, Thy love is stronger, mightier than all!
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