Thanatokallos

I think we faint and weep more than is manly;
I think we more mistrust than Christians should.
Because the earth we cling to interposes
And hides the lower orbit of the sun,
We have no faith to know the circle perfect,
And that a day will follow on the night:
Nay, more, that when the sun we see, is setting,
He is but rising on another people,
And not his face but ours veil'd in darkness.
We are less wise than were the ancient heathen
Who temper'd feasting with a grisly moral.
"With higher hope, we shrink from thoughts of dying,
And dare not read, while yet of death unbidden,
As gipsies in the palm, those seams, and circles,
And time-worn lineaments, which kings in purple
Have trembled to behold, but holy men,
Interpreting aright, like martyr' d Stephen-,
In singleness of heart have sunk to sleep;
Gob's children weary with an evening ramble.
Unthinking custom from our very cradle
Makes us most cowards where we should be bold.
The house is closed and hush'd; a gloom funereal
Pervades the rooms once cheerful with the light;
Sobs and outcries from those we love infect us
With strange disquiet, making play unsought
Before they take us on the knee and tell us
We must no more be joyful, for a dread
And terrible calamity has smitten one.
And then, poor innocents, with frighted hearts
Within the awful chamber are we led
To look on death; the hard, impassive face,
The formal shroud, which the stiff feet erect
Into the semblance of a second forehead,
Swathed and conceal'd; the tumbler whence he drank
Who ne'er shall drink again; the various adjuncts
Of a sick room; the useless vials
Half emptied only, on the hearth the lamp,
Even the fly that buzzes round and settles
Upon the dead man's mouth, and walking thence
Into his nostril, starts him not from slumber.
All portions of the dreary, changeless scene
In the last drama, with unwholesome stillness
Succeeding to the weepings and complaints
Of Heaven's own justice, and loud cries for succour
That fill the dying ear not wholly dead,
Distract the fluttering spirit, and invest
A death-bed with a horror not its own.
I thought of these things sadly, and I wonder'd
If in this thanatopsis, soul as clay
Took part and sorrow'd. While I this debated,
I knew my soul was loosing from my hold,
And that the pines around, assuming shape
Of mournful draperies, shut out the day.
Then I lost sight and memory for a moment,
Then stood erect beside my usual couch,
And saw my longwhile tenement, a pallid
And helpless symbol of my former self.
The hands laid heavily across the breast,
The eyelids down, the mouth with final courage
That aim'd a smile for sake of her who watch'd,
But lapsed into a pang and so congeal'd,
Half sweet, half suffering: Aria to Caecinna.
Poor sinful clod, erewhile the spirit's master
Not less than servant, with desire keen
Alloying love, and oft with wants and achings
Leading the mind astray from noblest deeds
To sell its birthright for an Esau's portion.
I all forgave, for I was all forgiven.
Phosphor had brought a day too broad for twilight
Or mist upon its confines. All the old
Sad mysteries that raise gigantic shadows
Betwixt our mortal faces and God's throne,
Had fainted in its splendour; pride and sin,
Sorrow and pain, and every mortal ill,
In the deserted tenement remain'd,
A palace outwardly, a vault within.
And so, because she thought it still a palace
And not a prison with the prisoner fled,
She stood before the gates accustom'd. Weeping,
Laid her moist cheek upon its breast, and cried,
"My lord! my life!" to what had ceased from living,
And could no more command with word or eyes.
It moved my pity sorely, for these fingers,
Now lock'd in agonizing prayer, once turn'd
Gently the pages of his life who slumber'd;
And this brave mouth, with words of faith and cheer
Strew'd flowers in the path he needs must tread;
That as a conqueror and not a captive,
Dragg'd at the heavy chariot-wheels of Time,
And through an arch triumphal, where for others
A narrow portal opens in the sod,
Silent, and sad, and void of outlet, he
The kingdom of his Loud might enter in.
Thus she made dying sweet and full of beauty
As life itself. There was no harsh transition;
He that slept twofold, woke a single nature
Beatified and glad. But she who stay'd,
Poor little Roman heart, no longer brave
Now that the eyes were shut forevermore,
Which made all virtues sweeter for their praise,
Saw not the joy and greatness of the change.
And I drew near her, as a spirit may
Not to the mortal ear, but that the words
Seem'd teachings of her bruised and lowly soul:
"Is this the poet of thy summer days,
The thoughtful husband of maturer years?
Are these the lips whose kindly words could reach
The deepness of thy nature? If they be,
Let them resume their own, nor tarry. Nay,
Thou knowest all that thou didst ever love
Is lifted out, and all that thou didst hate
Lived in the flesh, and with the flesh remains.
What matters it to thee if this decays,
And mingling with the sod, is trampled on
Of clownish feet, by gleaming share upturn'd,
Or feeds a rose, or roots a noisome weed?
How canst thou halve thy heart, half to the grave,
Half to high Heaven yield? Thank God instead,
That he who was so dear to thee, released
From sin and care, at length has found great peace."
While she thus mused, her silent tears were stay'd,
And kneeling down, with her sweet, patient face
Lifted toward heaven, itself sufficient prayer —
-" Loud God!" she cried, "thou knowest best how weak
And frail I am, and faithless; give me strength
To take the rod thou sendest for a staff,
And falter never more in this lone journey!"
Then she went forth and gather'd freshest flowers,
And strew'd them on the dead: young violets
Upon the breast, verbena round the temples,
Loose rose-leaves o'er the mouth, to hide the pang,
And in his hand a lily newly open'd,
In token of her faith and his transition.
And in her eyes there reign'd such quietude,
That those who saw her, said, "An angel surely
Has spoken with her, or her reason's moved
By sufferings prolong'd." But none might say
She loved but lightly, or with levity
Look'd forward to the common lot of all.