O sudden blast, that through night's silence black
Sweep'st past my windows,
Coming and going with invisible track--
As death or sin does--
Why scare me, lying sick, and--save thine own--
Hearing no voices?
Why mingle with a helpless human moan
Thy fierce rejoices?
Thou shouldst come gently, as good angels come
To souls departing;
Floating among the shadows of the room
With eyes light-darting:
Bringing faint airs of balm, and tones that rouse
Thoughts of a Far Land;
Binding so softly upon aching brows
Death's poppy-garland.
O fearful blast, I shudder at thy sound;
Like some poor mortal
Who hears the Three that mark life's doomèd bound
Sit at his portal.
Thy wings seem laden with sad, shrieking souls,
Borne, all unwilling,
From earth's known plains, to the unknown gulf that rolls,
Evermore filling.
Fierce wind! will the Death-Angel come like thee,
And swiftly bear me--
_Whither_?--What mysteries may unfold to me?
What horrors scare me?
Shall I go wandering on through silent space,
Lonely--still lonely?
Or seek through myriad spirit-ranks one face,
And miss that only?
Shall I not then drop down from sphere to sphere,
Palsied and aimless?
Or will my being new so changed appear
That grief dies nameless?
Rather, I pray Him who Himself is Love,
Out of whose essence
All pure souls spring, and towards Him tending, move
Back to His presence--
His light transfiguring, may not efface
The soul's earth-features,
That the dear human likeness each may trace--
Glorified creatures:
That we may love each other, only taught
Holier desiring;
And seek all wisdom, as on earth we sought,
Ever aspiring:
That we may do all work we left undone
Through frail unmeetness;
From sphere to sphere together passing on
Towards full completeness.
Then, strong Azrael, be thy solemn call
Soft as spring-breezes,
Or like this blast, whose loud fiend-festival
My heart's pulse freezes--
I will not fear thee!--If thou safely keep
My soul, God's giving,
And my soul's soul--I, wakening from death's sleep,
Shall first know _living_.
* * * * *
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