"O well," it said, "beneath yon pool, In some still cavern deep, The fevered brain might slumber cool, The eyes forget to weep: Within that goblet's mystic rim Are draughts of healing, stored for him Whose heart is sick, whose sight is dim, Who prayeth but to sleep!" The evening-breeze went moaning by, Like mourner for the dead, And stirred, with shrill complaining sigh, The tree-tops overhead: My guardian-angel seemed to stand And mutely wave a warning hand-- With sudden terror all unmanned, I turned myself and fled! A cottage-gate stood open wide: Soft fell the dying ray On two fair children, side by side, That rested from their play-- Together bent the earnest head, As ever and anon they read From one dear Book: the words they said Come back to me to-day. Like twin cascades on mountain-stair Together wandered down The ripples of the golden hair, The ripples of the brown: While, through the tangled silken haze, Blue eyes looked forth in eager gaze, More starlike than the gems that blaze About a monarch's crown. My son, there comes to each an hour When sinks the spirit's pride-- When weary hands forget their power The strokes of death to guide: In such a moment, warriors say, A word the panic-rout may stay, A sudden charge redeem the day And turn the living tide. I could not see, for blinding tears, The glories of the west: A heavenly music filled mine ears, A heavenly peace my breast. "Come unto Me, come unto Me-- All ye that labour, unto Me-- Ye heavy-laden, come to Me-- And I will give you rest." The night drew onward: thin and blue The evening mists arise To bathe the thirsty land in dew, As erst in Paradise-- While, over silent field and town, The deep blue vault of heaven looked down; Not, as of old, in angry frown, But bright with angels' eyes. Blest day! Then first I heard the voice That since hath oft beguiled These eyes from tears, and bid rejoice This heart with anguish wild-- Thy mother, boy, thou hast not known; So soon she left me here to moan-- Left me to weep and watch, alone, Our one beloved child. Though, parted from my aching sight, Like homeward-speeding dove, She passed into the perfect light That floods the world above; Yet our twin spirits, well I know-- Though one abide in pain below-- Love, as in summers long ago, And evermore shall love. So with a glad and patient heart I move toward mine end: The streams, that flow awhile apart, Shall both in ocean blend. I dare not weep: I can but bless The Love that pitied my distress, And lent me, in Life's wilderness, So sweet and true a friend.