Oh! let but these dark days be once gone by, And thou, unwilling captive, that dost strain, With tiptoe longing, vainly, towards the sky, O'er the whole kingdom of my life shalt reign. But, while I'm doomed beneath the yoke to bow, Of sordid toiling in these caverns drear, Oh, look upon me sometimes with thy brow Of shining brightness; sometimes let me hear Thy blessed voice, singing the songs of Heaven, Whence thou and I, together, have been driven; Give me assurance that thou still art nigh, Lest I sink down beneath my load, and die. A LAMENT FOR THE WISSAHICCON. THE waterfall is calling me And the green boughs are beckoning me, I may not go, I may not go, To where the sunny waters flow, To where the wild wood flowers blow; I must stay here In prison drear, Oh, heavy life, wear on, wear on, The busy mill-wheel round and round A LAMENT FOR THE WISSAHICCON. And all the way They murmuring say: 107 "Oh, child! why art thou far away? Come back into the sun, and stray Upon our mossy side!" I may not go, I may not go, To where the gold green waters run, In prison drear, Oh, heavy life, wear on, wear on, The soft spring wind goes passing by, The clouds go trooping thro' the sky, With them to stay, The blessed, livelong summer's day. I may not go, I may not go, Where the sweet breathing spring winds blow, Nor where the silver clouds go by, Across the holy, deep blue sky, Nor where the sunshine, warm and bright, In prison drear, Oh, heavy life, wear on, wear on, Oh, that I were a thing with wings! Or even a silly, senseless stone, With dark, green, starry moss o'ergrown, Round which the waters glide. TO THE WISSAHICCON. My feet shall tread no more thy mossy side, Will shine the eyes of the White Island's daughter. But often in my dreams, when I am gone Beyond the sea that parts thy home and mine, Upon thy banks the evening sun will shine, And I shall hear thy low, still flowing on. And when the burthen of existence lies Upon my soul, darkly and heavily, I'll clasp my hands over my weary eyes, Thou Pleasant Water, and thy clear waves see. Bright be thy course for ever and for ever, Child of pure mountain springs, and mountain snow; And as thou wanderest on to meet the river, Oh, still in light and music mayst thou flow! |