Page:Maryland, my Maryland, and other poems - Randall - 1908.pdf/157

  :::::After a little while, The cross will glisten and the thistles wave
 * Above my grave,
 * And planets smile;

Sweet Lord! then pillowed on Thy gentle breast,
 * I fain would rest,
 * After a little while.

I am not happy, though my smiles betoken
 * The jocund fancies which I do not feel;

I am not happy, all my hopes are broken
 * Upon the world’s inexorable wheel.

’Tis said the dying shed no useless tears,
 * And so, I weep not for the vanished years.

I weep not for them, though they flock around me
 * In solitude, and in the noontide glare;

I weep not for them, though fond eyes confound me,
 * With midnight havened in their realmless stare.

With jests upon my lips I stand aghast
 * O’er the Dead Angel that we call the Past.