A sudden sunlight smote the gloom; And round about them swept a breeze, With faint breaths as of clover-bloom; A bird was heard, through drone of bees,-- Then, far and clear and eerily, A child's voice from an orchard-tree-- Then laughter, sweet as the perfume Of lilacs, could the hearing see. And he--O Love! he fed thy name On bruiséd kisses, while her dim Deep eyes, with all their inner flame, Like drowning gems were turned on him.
As one in sorrow looks upon The dead face of a loyal friend, By the dim light of New Year's dawn I saw the Old Year end.
Upon the pallid features lay The dear old smile--so warm and bright Ere thus its cheer had died away In ashes of delight.
The hands that I had learned to love With strength of passion half divine, Were folded now, all heedless of The emptiness of mine.
The eyes that once had shed their bright Sweet looks like sunshine, now were dull, And ever lidded from the light That made them beautiful.
The chimes of bells were in the air, And sounds of mirth in hall and street, With pealing laughter everywhere And throb of dancing feet:
The mirth and the convivial din Of revelers in wanton glee, With tunes of harp and violin In tangled harmony.
But with a sense of nameless dread, I turned me, from the merry face Of this newcomer, to my dead; And, kneeling there a space,
I sobbed aloud, all tearfully:-- By this dear face so fixed and cold, O Lord, let not this New Year be As happy as the old!
Hereafter! O we need not waste Our smiles or tears, whatever befall: No happiness but holds a taste Of something sweeter, after all;-- No depth of agony but feels Some fragment of abiding trust,-- Whatever death unlocks or seals, The mute beyond is just.
Writ in between the lines of his life-deed We trace the sacred service of a heart Answering the Divine command, in every part Bearing on human weal: His love did feed The loveless; and his gentle hands did lead The blind, and lift the weak, and balm the smart Of other wounds than rankled at the dart In his own breast, that gloried thus to bleed. He served the lowliest first--nay, them alone-- The most despised that e'er wreaked vain breath In cries of suppliance in the reign whereat Red Guilt sate squat upon her spattered throne.-- For these doomed there it was he went to death. God! how the merest man loves one like that!