On that grave drop not a tear! I shall feel it on my face. Thinking of me in the sun, Art thou near me? nearer ! so- So, -no more vain words be said! The hosannas nearer roll, Mother, smile now on thy Dead, I am death-strong in my soul. Mystic Dove alit on cross, Guide the poor bird of the snows Through the snow-wind above loss ! Jesus, Victim, comprehending Love's divine self-abnegation, Cleanse my love in its self-spending, And absorb the poor libation! Wind my thread of life up higher. Up, through angels' hands of fire! I aspire while I expire. CATARINA TO CAMOENS; DYING IN HIS ABSENCE ABROAD, AND REFERRING TO THE POEM IN WHICH HE RECORDED THE SWEETNESS OF HER EYES. ON the door you will not enter, Close and cover These poor eyes, you called, I ween, When I heard you sing that burden I but harkened that of yours— In heart-playing, “Blessed eyes mine eyes have been But all changes. At this vesper, Now, and shading Eyes you sang of, that yestreen, As the sweetest ever seen? Yes. I think, were you beside them, Though their beauty you denied them, As you stood there, looking down, You would truly Call them duly, For the love's sake found therein, "Sweetest eyes, were ever seen." And if you looked down upon them, All the light which has foregone them Love-transformed to beauty's sheen, But, ah me! you only see me, In your thoughts of loving man, In your reverie serene, "Sweetest eyes, were ever seen-" While my spirit leans and reaches Come and show it : Come, of latest love, to glean 66 Sweetest eyes, were ever seen." O my poet, O my prophet, When you praised their sweetness so, Did you think, in singing of it, That it might be near to go? Had you fancies From their glances, That the grave would quickly screen "Sweetest eyes, were ever seen?" No reply. The fountain's warble So my heart falls with a moan To this dying. Death forerunneth Love to win Will you come? When I'm departed Love is over! Cry, beneath the cypress green, When the angelus is ringing, Near the convent will you walk, And recall the choral singing Which brought angels down our talk? I viewed Heaven, Till you smiled-" Is earth unclean, When beneath the palace-lattice You ride slow as you have done, And you see a face there, that is Not the old familiar one, Will you oftly "Here ye watched me morn and e'en, Sweetest eyes, were ever seen?" When the palace-ladies, sitting Round your gittern, shall have said, Yet dissemble, Or sing hoarse, with tears between, "Sweetest eyes, were ever seen?" "Sweetest eyes!" how sweet in flowings The repeated cadence is ! Though you sang a hundred poems, Still the best one would be this. And the earth-noise intervene— But the priest waits for the praying, Strains more solemn-high than these. For the weary! "Sweetest eyes, were ever seen!" Keep my riband, take and keep it She left him the riband from her hair. |