And trench the strong hard mould with the spade, Where never before a grave was made; And gave the virgin fields to the day; And the gourd and the bean, beside his door, 'Tis said that when life is ended here, The spirit is borne to a distant sphere; That it visits its earthly home no more, Nor looks on the haunts it loved before. But why should the bodiless soul be sent Far off, to a long, long banishment? Talk not of the light and the living green! It will pine for the dear familiar scene; It will yearn, in that strange bright world, to behold The rock and the stream it knew of old. "Tis a cruel creed, believe it not! Death to the good is a milder lot. They are here, they are here,—that harmless pair, In the yellow sunshine and flowing air, In the light cloud-shadows that slowly pass, In the sounds that rise from the murmuring grass. THE TWO GRAVES. They sit where their humble cottage stood, Of the brook that wets the rocks below. They watch, and wait, and linger around, Till the day when their bodies shall leave the ground. 183 THE CONJUNCTION OF JUPITER AND VENUS. I WOULD not always reason. The straight path Wearies us with its never-varying lines, And we grow melancholy. I would make Reason my guide, but she should sometimes sit CONJUNCTION OF JUPITER AND VENUS. Amid the evening glory, to confer Of men and their affairs, and to shed down This mighty city, smooths his front, and far Of the dark heights that bound him to the west; Rises like a thanksgiving. Put we hence Dark and sad thoughts awhile-there's time for them With melancholy looks, to tell our griefs, And make each other wretched; this calm hour, This balmy, blessed evening, we will give To cheerful hopes and dreams of happy days, Born of the meeting of those glorious stars. Enough of drought has parched the year, and scared. The land with dread of famine. Autumn, yet, Shall make men glad with unexpected fruits. The dog-star shall shine harmless: genial days Shall softly glide away into the keen And wholesome cold of winter; he that fears The pestilence, shall gaze on those pure beams, 185 |