James Russell Lowell

Along a riverside,
I know not where,
I walked one night in mystery of dream;
A chill creeps curdling yet beneath my hair,

I thought our love at full, but I did err;
Joy's wreath drooped o'er mine eyes;
I could not
That sorrow in our happy world must

I.I built an altar in my soul,
I builded it to one alone;
And ever silently I stole,
In happy days of long-agone,…

O poet! above all men blest,
Take heed that thus thou store them;
Love,
Hope, and Faith shall ever rest

So may it be, but let it not be so,
O, let it not be so with thee, my friend;
Be of good courage, bear up to the end,
And on thine after way rejoicing go!…

A
Thick-rushing, like an ocean vast  Of bisons the far prairie shaking,
The notes crowd heavily and
As surfs, one plunging while the last  Draws seaward from its foamy breaking.

All things are sad:--
I go and ask of Memory,
That she tell sweet tales to me
To make me glad;…

Verse cannot say how beautiful thou art,
How glorious the calmness of thine eyes,
Full of unconquerable energies,
Telling that thou hast acted well thy part.…

To the dark, narrow house where loved ones go,
Whence no steps outward turn, whose silent door
None but the sexton knocks at any more,
Are they not sometimes with us yet below?…

Pleasant thoughts come wandering,
When thou art far, from thee to me;
On their silver wings they bring
A very peaceful ecstasy,…

As a twig trembles, which a bird Lights on to sing, then leaves unbent,
So is my memory thrilled and stirred;— I only know she came and went. As clasps some lake, by gusts unriven,
The blue dome’s measureless content,
So my soul…

Not they alone are the departed,
Who have laid them down to sleep
In the grave narrow and lonely,
Not for them only do I vigils keep,…

Might I but be beloved, and, O most fair
And perfect-ordered soul, beloved of thee,
How should I feel a cloud of earthly care,
If thy blue eyes were ever clear to me?…

Great human nature, whither art thou fled?
Are these things creeping forth and back agen,
These hollow formalists and echoes, men?
Art thou entombèd with the mighty dead?…

Вдруг ветка вздрогнет - и птица
споёт и умчится в ночь.
Так память, когда взбодрится,
лишь только мелькнёт - и прочь.Так озеро вдруг взметнётся…

Why should we ever weary of this life?
Our souls should widen ever, not contract,
Grow stronger, and not harder, in the strife,
Filling each moment with a noble act;…

I du believe in Freedom's cause,
Ez fur away ez Paris is;
I love to see her stick her
In them infarnal Pharisees;

My coachman, in the moonlight there,
Looks through the side light of the door;
I hear him with his brethren swear,
As I could do,—but only more.Flattening his nose against the pane,…

Ay, pale and silent maiden,  Cold as thou liest there,
Thine was the sunniest nature  That ever drew the air;
The wildest and most wayward,  And yet so gently kind,
Thou seemedst but to body  A breath of summer wind.

"Dear Child! dear happy Girl! if thou appear
Heedless--untouched with awe or serious thought,
Thy nature is not therefore less divine:
Thou liest in Abraham's bosom all the year;…

Gentle, Lady, be thy sleeping,
Peaceful may thy dreamings be,
While around thy soul is sweeping,
Dreamy-winged, our melody;…

O! I must look on that sweet face once more before I die;
God grant that it may lighten up with joy when I draw nigh;
God grant that she may look on me as kindly as she seems
In the long night, the restless night, i' the sunny land of dreams!I hoped, I thought, she loved me once, and yet, I know not why,…

Our love is not a fading earthly flower:
Its wingèd seed dropped down from Paradise,
And, nursed by day and night, by sun and shower,
Doth momently to fresher beauty rise.

There came a youth upon the earth,
Some thousand years ago,
Whose slender hands were nothing worth,
Whether to plow, to reap, or sow.