The still voice laugh'd. "I talk," said he, "Not with thy dreams. Suffice it thee Thy pain is a reality.” "But thou," said I, "hast miss'd thy mark, Who sought'st to wreck my mortal ark, By making all the horizon dark. Why not set forth, if I should do This rashness, that which might ensue "Whatever crazy sorrow saith, No life that breathes with human breath ""Tis life, whereof our nerves are scant, Oh life, not death, for which we pant; More life, and fuller, that I want." I ceas'd, and sat as one forlorn. Then said the voice, in quiet scorn, 66 Behold, it is the Sabbath morn." And I arose, and I released The casement, and the light increased With freshness in the dawning east. Like soften'd airs that blowing steal, On to God's house the people prest : Passing the place where each must rest, Each enter'd like a welcome guest. One walk'd between his wife and child, With measur'd footfall firm and mild, And now and then he gravely smiled. The prudent partner of his blood Lean'd on him, faithful, gentle, good, Wearing the rose of womanhood. And in their double love secure, The little maiden walk'd demure, Pacing with downward eyelids pure. These three made unity so sweet, I blest them, and they wander'd on: A second voice was at mine ear, A little whisper silver-clear, A murmur, "Be of better cheer." As from some blissful neighbourhood, "I see the end, and know the good." A little hint to solace woe, A hint, a whisper breathing low, "I may not speak of what I know." Like an Æolian harp that wakes No certain air, but overtakes Far thought with music that it makes : Such seem'd the whisper at my side: "What is it thou knowest, sweet voice?" I cried. "A hidden hope," the voice replied: So heavenly-toned, that in that hour To feel, altho' no tongue can prove, That every cloud, that spreads above And forth into the fields I went, And Nature's living motion lent The pulse of hope to discontent. I wonder'd at the bounteous hours, You scarce could see the grass for flowers. I wonder'd, while I paced along : So variously seem'd all things wrought, |