Page:Poems of Nature and Life.djvu/411

 LIFE 401

Like thee, I do but change a dress

That's soiled from day to day ; Deem not for this all loveliness

Is doomed to pass away.

Like thee, I would not always wear

The torn robes of the past, And still throw by, with each new year,

My playthings of the last.

Hath Death's cold finger chilled a heart

Thou in thine own didst cherish ? Think not thy friend and I shall part ;

Nothing once made can perish.

'Tis only to grow warm once more.

That he hath now grown cold ; Time seeks his green youth to restore,

Lest Age might grow too old.

The blast that blights each wasted frame

But sets a captive free ; I breathe, and straight the vital flame

Wakes to new liberty.

Deem, then, no suicide am I,

Because he sleeps in dust ; Nor falsely think that men must die.

Because their bodies must.

Go, child of earth, henceforth fear not

Lest being cease to be ; Till God hath his own self forgot,

Space shall be filled with me.

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