A Thought
Hearts that are great beat never loud,
They muffle their music when they come;
They hurry away from the thronging crowd
With bended brows and lips half dumb,
And the world looks on and mutters -- "Proud."
But when great hearts have passed away
Men gather in awe and kiss their shroud,
And in love they kneel around their clay.
Hearts that are great are always lone,
They never will manifest their best;
Their greatest greatness is unknown --
Earth knows a little -- God, the rest.
"Yesterdays"
Gone! and they return no more,
But they leave a light in the heart;
The murmur of waves that kiss a shore
Will never, I know, depart.
Gone! yet with us still they stay,
And their memories throb through life;
The music that hushes or stirs to-day,
Is toned by their calm or strife.
Gone! and yet they never go!
We kneel at the shrine of time:
'Tis a mystery no man may know,
Nor tell in a poet's rhyme.
"To-Days"
Brief while they last,
Long when they are gone;
They catch from the past
A light to still live on.
Brief! yet I ween
A day may be an age,
The poet's pen may screen
Heart-stories on one page.
Brief! but in them,
From eve back to morn,
Some find the gem,
Many find the thorn.
Brief! minutes pass
Soft as flakes of snow,
Shadows o'er the grass
Could not swifter go.
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