Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/795

 WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT

In silence from the living, and no friend

Take note of thy departure? All that breathe

Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh

When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care

Plod on, and each one as before will chase

His favourite phantom; yet all these shall leave

Their mirth and their employments, and shall come

And make their bed with thee. As the long train

Of ages glide away, the sons of men,

The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes

In the full strength of years, matron and maid,

The speechless babe, and the grey-headed man

Shall one by one be gathered to thy side

By those who in their turn shall follow them.

So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan which moves To that mysterious realm where each shall take Hib chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustam'd and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.

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