large/9676/poems_of_power_1504_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsofpower_04_wilcox_64kb_3
large/9676/poems_of_power_1504_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsofpower_04_wilcox_64kb
English
9676
It was only a thought, that came that day In the midst of the muffled drumming And funeral music and sad display, That I knew was right and becoming Only a thought as the mourning train Moved, column after column, Bearing the dead to the burial plain With a reverence grand as solemn. IT WAS ONLY A THOUGHT THAT CAME THAT DAY IN THE MIDST OF THE MUFFLED DRUMMING AND FUNERAL MUSIC AND SAD DISPLAY THAT I KNEW WAS RIGHT IN BECOMING ONLY A THOUGHT AS THE MORNING TRAIN MOVED COLUMN AFTER COLUMN BEARING THE DEAD TO THE BURIAL PLAIN WITH A REVERENCE GRAND AS SOLEMN
ring, And I said to myself, as in truth I might, “How sad must be this _sharing_.” To share the living with even Fame, For a heart that is only human, Is hard, when Glory asserts her claim Like a bold, insistent woman; Yet a great, grand passion can put aside Or stay each selfish emotion, And watch, with a pleasure that springs from pride, Its rival—the world’s devotion. But Death should render to love its own, And my heart bowed down and sorrowed For the stricken woman who wept alone While even her _dead_ was borrowed; Borrowed from her, the bride—the wife— For the world’s last martial honour, As she sat in the gloom of her darkened life, With her widow’s grief fresh upon her. He had shed the glory of Love and Fame In a golden halo about her; She had shared his triumphs and worn his name: But, alas! he had died without her. He had wandered in many a distant realm, And never had left her behind him, But now, with a spectral shape at the helm, He had sailed where she could not find him. EMN SIGHT OF THE ONE FOND HEART DESPAIRING AND I SAID TO MYSELF AS IN TRUTH I MIGHT HOW SAD MUST BE THIS SHARING TO SHARE THE LIVING WITH EVEN FAME FOR A HEART THAT IS ONLY HUMAN IS HARD WHEN GLORY ASSERTS HER CLAIM LIKE A BOLD INSISTENT WOMAN YET A GREAT GRAND PASSION CAN PUT ASIDE OR STAY EACH SELFISH EMOTION AND WATCH WITH A PLEASURE THAT SPRINGS FROM PRIDE ITS RIVAL THE WORLD'S DEVOTION BUT DEATH SHOULD RENDER TO LOVE ITS OWN AND MY HEART BOWED DOWN AND SORROWED FOR THE STRICKEN WOMAN WHO WEPT ALONE WHILE EVEN HER DEAD WAS BORROWED BORROWED FROM HER THE BRIDE THE WIFE FOR THE WORLD'S LAST MARTIAL HONOR AS SHE SAT IN THE GLOOM OF HER DARKENED LIFE WITH HER WIDOW'S GRIEF FRESH UPON HER HE HAD SHED THE GLORY OF LOVE AND FAME IN A GOLDEN HALO ABOUT HER SHE HAD SHARED HIS TRIUMPHS AND WORN HIS NAME BUT ALAS HE HAD DIED WITHOUT HER HE HAD WANDERED IN MANY A DISTANT REALM AND NEVER HAD LEFT HER BEHIND HIM BUT NOW WITH A SPECTRAL SHAPE AT THE HELM HE HAD SAILED WHERE SHE COULD NOT FIND HIM
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