PHILIP BOURKE MARSTON

IN MEMORIAM

No tears of mine shall fall upon thy face,
Whatever city thou hast reached at last,
Better it is than that where thy feet passed
So many times, such weary nights and days.
Thy journeying feet knew all its inmost ways,

Where shapes and shadows of dread things were cast:
There moved thy soul profoundly dark and vast,

There did thy voice its song of anguish raise.
Thou would'st have left that city of great night,
Yet travelled its dark mazes all in vain:

But one way leads from it, which found aright,
Who quitteth it shall not come back again.

There didst thou grope thy way through thy long

pain:

Hast thou outside found any world of light?

THEOPHILE MARZIALS

TO TAMARIS

It is enough to love you. Let me be
Only an influence, as the wandering sea

Answers the moon that yet forgoes to shine;
Only a sacrifice, as in a shrine

The lamp burns on where dead eyes cannot see;
Only a hope unknown, withheld from thee,
Yet ever like a petrel plaintively,

Just following on to life's far twilight line,
It is enough.

Go where you will, I follow. You are free.
Alone, unloved, to all eternity

I track that chance no virtue can divine, When pitiful, loving, with fond hands in mine, You say: "True heart, here take your will of me, It is enough."

JOHN MILTON

ON HIS BLINDNESS

WHEN I consider how my light is spent

Ere half my days in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide, Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest he returning chide; Doth God exact day labor, light deny'd, I fondly ask? but patience to prevent That murmur soon replies, God doth not need

Either man's work or his own gifts; who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best: his state

Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed,

And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait.

THOMAS MOORE

OFT IN THE STILLY NIGHT

OFT, in the stilly night,

Ere Slumber's chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light

Of other days around me;

The smiles, the tears

Of boyhood's years,

The words of love then spoken;

The eyes that shone,

Now dimm'd and gone,

The cheerful hearts now broken!

Thus, in the stilly night,

Ere Slumber's chain has bound me,

Sad Memory brings the light

Of other days around me.

When I remember all

The friends, so link'd together,

I've seen around me fall,

Like leaves in wintry weather;

I feel like one

Who treads alone

Some banquet-hall deserted,

Whose lights are fled,

Whose garlands dead,

And all but he departed!

Thus, in the stilly night,

Ere Slumber's chain has bound me,

Sad Memory brings the light

Of other days around me.