I might have spared my idle prayer They coldly laugh'd-and laid him there: The flat and turfless earth above 160 The being we so much did love; His empty chain above it leant, VIII. But he, the favorite and the flower, To see the human soul take wing 170 In any shape, in any mood:- I've seen it on the breaking ocean Strive with a swoln convulsive motion, But these were horrors-this was woe Unmix'd with such-but sure and slow: He faded, and so calm and meek, So softly worn, so sweetly weak, 180 And grieved for those he left behind; With all the while a cheek whose bloom 190 Was as a mockery of the tomb, Whose tints as gently sunk away As a departing rainbow's ray— An eye of most transparent light, And not a word of murmur—not For I was sunk in silence-lost 200 In this last loss, of all the most; And then the sighs he would suppress More slowly drawn, grew less and less : I called, for I was wild with fear; I knew 'twas hopeless, but my dread I called, and thought I heard a sound- The accursed breath of dungeon-dew; One on the earth, and one beneath 210 My brothers-both had ceased to breathe: 220 I took that hand which lay so still, Alas! my own was full as chill; I had not strength to stir, or strive, A frantic feeling, when we know That what we love shall ne'er be so. I could not die, I had no earthly hope—but faith, And that forbade a selfish death. IX. What next befell me then and there I know not well-I never knew First came the loss of light, and air, I had no thought, no feeling-none- It was not night—it was not day, grey, 230 240 But vacancy absorbing space, And fixedness-without a place; There were no stars-no earth-no time- Which neither was of life nor death; A sea of stagnant idleness, Blind, boundless, mute, and motionless! X. A light broke in upon my brain, It was the carol of a bird; It ceased, and then it came again, But then by dull degrees came back C 250 260 |