Poems (Cary)/Parting Song

For works with similar titles, see Parting Song.
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PARTING SONG.
Behind their cloudy curtains, Over sunset's crimson sea,Like fires along a battle field, Intensely, mournfully,The radiant stars are burning, That will burn no more for me.
Ere on yon path of glory, Which still the daylight warms,Walks silently the midnight, With the silence in her arms,I shall be where longings trouble not, Nor haunting fear alarms.
Nay, weep not, gentlest, dearest, When joy should most abound,That the dewy, tender clasping Of thy arms must be unwound;We have journeyed long together In life's wilderness profound.
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Like the shining threads of silver Which the showers of summer leave;When to webs of beauty wovenBy the golden loom of eve, Is the path that lies before me now—Then, dear one, do not grieve.
Mortality has been to me A wheel of pain, at best,And I sink, although thy gentle love Has soothed and almost blest,As a pilgrim in the shadow Of the sepulchre, to rest.
Not when the morn is glowing, Like a banner o'er the brave,Nor when the world is bathing In the noontide's amber wave,Will I come, oh Love, to meet thee From the chamber of the grave.
But through the silver columns Leaning earthward from the arch,When the pale and solemn army Of the night is on the march,I will glide, oh Love, to meet thee, From the shadow of the larch.
As the poet's bosom trembles With some awful melody,Till he hears the dark procession Of the ages sweeping by,Lo! my heart is trembling, beating, To the music of the sky.
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