Poems (Dorr)/St John's Eve

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ST. JOHN'S EVE
   The veil is thin between   The seen and the unseen—Thinner to-night than the transparent air;   All heaven and earth are still,   Save when from some far hillFloateth the nightbird's unavailing prayer;   Up from the mountain bars   Climb the slow, patient stars,Only to faint in moonlight white and rare!
   Ere earth had grown too wise   To commerce with the skies,On this midsummer night the men of old   Believed the dead drew near,   Believed that they could hearVoices long silent speaking from the mould,   Believed whoever slept   Unearthly vigil keptWhere his own death-knell should at last be tolled.
   In solemn midnight marches   Beneath dark forest archesThey fancied that their hungry souls found God;   His angels clad in light   Stole softly through the night,Leaving no impress on the yielding sod,   And bore to mortal ears   Tidings from other spheres,The undiscovered way no man hath trod.
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   Ah! what if it were true?   Then would I call ye whoHave one by one beyond my vision flown;   I would set wide the door   Ye enter now no moreCrying, "Come in from out the void unknown!   Come as ye came of old   Laden with love untold"—Hark! was that nothing but the night wind's moan?
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