Yet, surely as He lives, the day Of peace He promised shall be ours, To fold the flags of war, and lay Its sword and spear to rust away, And sow its ghastly fields with flowers! เ THE RIVER РАТН. O bird-song floated down the hill, N° The tangled bank below was still; No rustle from the birchen stem, The dusk of twilight round us grew, We felt the falling of the dew; For, from us, ere the day was done, The wooded hills shut out the sun. But on the river's farther side We saw the hill-tops glorified, A tender glow, exceeding fair, With us the damp, the chill, the gloom: With them the sunset's rosy bloom; While dark, through willowy vistas seen, The river rolled in shade between. From out the darkness where we trod Whose light seemed not of moon or sun. We spake not, but our thought was one. We paused, as if from that bright shore Beckoned our dear ones gone before; And stilled our beating hearts to hear The voices lost to mortal ear! Sudden our pathway turned from night; Through their green gates the sunshine showed, A long, slant splendor downward flowed. Down glade and glen and bank it rolled; And, borne on piers of mist, allied The shadowy with the sunlit side! "So," prayed we, "when our feet draw near The river, dark with mortal fear, "And the night cometh chill with dew, O Father! let thy light break through! |