Farewell

Hath the vast ocean, that strange, humorous thing,
In all its depths or perilous banks a shell
That hath matured a pearl ; let Ocean bring
That pearl to thee, and like some gentle spell
Which never witch or wicked wizard mutter'd.
But still hath dwelt in angel heart unutter'd —
Mark on the pearl the sad, sweet word, farewell !
Hath the dead earth, dead now, but once alive
In every atom, every pore and cell, —
Relics of life, or fated gems that strive
To be their proper selves, and pant and swell
Towards Light, the universal mediator.
And daily witness of the one Being greater.
Hath it aught sadder, sweeter, than farewell !

And hath the air — the always gracious air —
That ever fleeting yet would gladly dwell
For ever in the lowly voice of prayer —
Full loth, I ween, when ruder sounds compel
Its passive nature to unwilling madness ; —
Hath air a joy so meek, so sweet a sadness,
As when she murmurs in a last farewell !