But if there be--O if there be A truth in what they say, That angel-forms we cannot see Go with us on our way; Then surely she is with me here, I dimly feel her spirit near-- The morning-mists grow thin and clear, And Death brings in the Day. _April, 1868._ [Illustration] SOLITUDE. I love the stillness of the wood: I love the music of the rill: I love to couch in pensive mood Upon some silent hill. Scarce heard, beneath yon arching trees, The silver-crested ripples pass; And, like a mimic brook, the breeze Whispers among the grass. Here from the world I win release, Nor scorn of men, nor footstep rude, Break in to mar the holy peace Of this great solitude. Here may the silent tears I weep Lull the vexed spirit into rest, As infants sob themselves to sleep Upon a mother's breast. But when the bitter hour is gone, And the keen throbbing pangs are still, Oh sweetest then to couch alone Upon some silent hill! To live in joys that once have been, To put the cold world out of sight, And deck life's drear and barren scene With hues of rainbow-light. For what to man the gift of breath, If sorrow be his lot below; If all the day that ends in death Be dark with clouds of woe? Shall the poor transport of an hour Repay long years of sore distress-- The fragrance of a lonely flower Make glad the wilderness? Ye golden hours of Life's young spring, Of innocence, of love and truth! Bright, beyond all imagining, Thou fairy-dream of youth! I'd give all wealth that years have piled, The slow result of Life's decay, To be once more a little child For one bright summer-day. _March 16, 1853._ FAR AWAY. He stept so lightly to the land, All in his manly pride: He kissed her cheek, he clasped her hand; Yet still she glanced aside. "Too gay he seems," she darkly dreams, "Too gallant and too gay, To think of me--poor simple me-- When he is far away!" "I bring my Love this goodly pearl Across the seas," he said: "A gem to deck the dearest girl That ever sailor wed!" She holds it tight: her eyes are bright: Her throbbing heart would say "He thought of me--he thought of me-- When he was far away!" The ship has sailed into the West: Her ocean-bird is flown: A dull dead pain is in her breast, And she is weak and lone: But there's a smile upon her face, A smile that seems to say "He'll think of me--he'll think of me-- When he is far away! "Though waters wide between us glide, Our lives are warm and near: No distance parts two faithful hearts-- Two hearts that love so dear: And I will trust my sailor-lad, For ever and a day, To think of me--to think of me-- When he is far away!" [Illustration] BEATRICE.