De Profundis. Poem by Henry Alford

All day long the tear is swelling,
Drops, and then anew is swelling,
Constant, in its crystal dwelling.

All day long, each other chasing,
Over life's dank meadows chasing,
Deeper shadows are increasing.

Dim the prospect all with sorrow,
Joyless mists and clouds of sorrow:
Eve to--day, and night to--morrow.

Gone, my blest ones? both departed?
Taken leave, and long departed?
Past away, my noble--hearted?

From the midst of warm embraces,
Sports and smiles and fond embraces,
Dropt among forgotten faces?

Blank is home, and cold without ye,
Long and drear the days without ye,--
Nestling memories crowd about ye.

Come, then, let me tell your story,
Oft thought--o'er familiar story;
Heavy sunset, morn of glory.

Clement, peaceful, still and holy,
Pure and bright and calm and holy,
Sweetest rose--bud fading slowly.

Cloudless clear that Easter morning,
Gems hung every flower that morning,
Earth her conqueror's pomp adorning.

Watching thy pale face distracted,
We, with faith and woe distracted,
Long, the long farewell expected.

Came at last the foe and bound thee,
With his icy film fast bound thee,--
Hearts were poured in tears around thee.

Sleepless nights we lay and pondered,
O'er thy fair decay we pondered,
At thy beauty wept and wondered.

Out of sight we took and laid thee,
By that old church wall we laid thee,
Long and sad adieu we bade thee.

Then for years in peace remaining,
Calm beneath our woe remaining,
We pass onward uncomplaining.

One was with us upward growing,
In pure mirth and joyance growing,
Fairest flower in fragrance blowing.

Still his merry laugh rung round me,
Still his light of smiles was round me,
Still his love with blessing crowned me.

Pause, my soul, amidst thy sorrow:
Arm for toil of sterner sorrow,
Weep to--day, and write to--morrow.