Time long past

Like the ghost of a dear friend dead Is time long past. A tone whitch is now forever fled, A hope which is now forever past, A love so sweet it could not last, Was time long past There were sweet dreams in the Night Of Time long past: And, was it sadness or delight, Each day a shadow onward cast Which made us wish it yet in last –That Time long past.

Mutability

We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon; How  restlessly they speed, and gleam, and quiver, Streaking the darkness radiantly! – yet soon Night closes round, and they are lost forever: Or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant strings Give various response to each varying blast, To whose frail frame no second motion brings One mood or modulation like the last. We rest. – A dream has power to poison sleep; We rise. – One wandering thought pollutes the day; We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep; Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away: It is the same! – For, be it joy or sorrow, The path of its departure still is free: Man’s yesterday may ne’er be like his morrow; Nought may endure but Mutability.

The world’s wanderers

Tell me, thou Star, whose wings of light Speed thee in thy fiery flight, In what cavern of the night Will thy pinions close now? Tell me, Moon, thou pale and gray Piligrim of Heaven’s homeless way, In what depth of night or day Seekest thou repose now? Weary Wind, who wanderest Like the world’s rejected guest, Hast thou still some secret nest On the tree or billow?

On a faded violet

The odour from the flower is gone Which like thy kissess breathed on me; The color from the flower is flown Which glowed of thee and only thee! Shrivelled, lifeless, vacant form It lies on my abandoned breast, And mocks the hart which yet is warm, With could and silent rest. I weep, - my tears revive it not! I sigh, - it breathes no more on me; Its mute and uncomplaining lot Is such as mine should be.

A Dirge

Rough wind that moanest loud Grief too sad for song; Wild wind, when sullen cloud Knells all the night long; Sad storm, whose thears are vain, Bare woods, whose branches strain Deep caves and dreary main, - Wile, for the world’s wrong!

Exodus

Life moves all around Now it goes away without return It shines on good and then on evil That sun is very generous. I Would like to pick a nice flower Old and fragile of love I’m still dreaming of peace For this afflicted and tired world. When love will come When love will come The sky is a glow of light  But it doesn’t speak of peace. While my heart, crying, Goes in search of love. Grave thoughts dance today like Yesterday while I wait and hope For the end of this storm.