When his glad mother on him stole
And snatched him to her breast!
GONE, gone from us! and shall we see O, thoughts were brooding in those eyes,
Those sibyl-leaves of destiny,
Those calm eyes, nevermore?
That would have soared like strong
Those deep, dark eyes so warm and Far, far into the skies,
Wherein the fortunes of the man
Lay slumbering in prophetic light,
In characters a child might scan?
So bright, and gone forth utterly!
O stern word - Nevermore!
The stars of those two gentle eyes
Will shine no more on earth;
Quenched are the hopes that had their
birth,
As we watched them slowly rise,
Stars of a mother's fate;
Gladding the earth with song,
And gushing harmonies,
Had he but tarried with us long!
O stern word - Nevermore !
How peacefully they rest,
Crossfolded there
Upon his little breast,
Those small, white hands that ne'er were
still before,
But ever sported with his mother's hair,
Or the plain cross that on her breast she
And she would read them o'er and o'er, Her heart no more will beat
Pondering, as she sate,
Over their dear astrology,
Which she had conned and conned before,
Deeming she needs must read aright
What was writ so passing bright.
And yet, alas! she knew not why,
Her voice would falter in its song,
To feel the touch of that soft palm,
That ever seemed a new surprise
Sending glad thoughts up to her eyes
To bless him with their holy calm,
Sweet thoughts! they made her eyes as
And tears would slide from out her eye,
Silent, as they were doing wrong.
O stern word-Nevermore!
That wove those pleasant bands
But that they do not rise and sink
With his calm breathing, I should think
That he were dropped asleep.
The tongue that scarce had learned to Alas! too deep, too deep
An entrance to a mother's heart
Is this his slumber!
Time scarce can number
By that dear talisman, a mother's name, The years ere he will wake again.
Sleeps all forgetful of its art!
I loved to see the infant soul
(How mighty in the weakness
Of its untutored meekness !)
Peep timidly from out its nest,
His lips, the while,
Fluttering with half-fledged words,
Or hushing to a smile
That more than words expressed,
O, may we see his eyelids open then!
O stern word - Nevermore !
As the airy gossamere,
Floating in the sunlight clear,
Where'er it toucheth clingeth tightly,
Round glossy leaf or stump unsightly,
So from his spirit wandered out
Tendrils spreading all about,
Is it not better here to be,
Than to be toiling late and soon?
In the dreary night to see
Nothing but the blood-red moon
Go up and down into the sea;
Or, in the loneliness of day,
To see the still seals only
Solemnly lift their faces gray,
Making it yet more lonely?
Is it not better than to hear
Only the sliding of the wave
Beneath the plank, and feel so near
A cold and lonely grave,
A restless grave, where thou shalt lie
Even in death unquietly?
Look down beneath thy wave-worn bark,
Lean over the side and see
The leaden eye of the sidelong shark
Upturned patiently,
Ever waiting there for thee:
Look down and see those shapeless forms,
Which ever keep their dreamless sleep
Far down within the gloomy deep,
And only stir themselves in storms,
Rising like islands from beneath,