Page:The college beautiful, and other poems.djvu/80

68 The spirit still may miss of rest, Though oft the daisies blow Above the hushed and darkened breast Shut close from sun and snow. Those halls, all curiously planned, Lie void, but whither thence Hath fled the tenant ? Shall the wand Of peace her dews dispense In equal share to hearts that beat Undaunted till the even, And rebels whose unbidden feet Would storm the heights of heaven? Perchance no soul shall taste of sleep Until its task be sped. The charge the living failed to keep Goes over to the dead. One perfect and mysterious Will Threads all this mortal maze, And calls each human voice to fill Some silent note of praise. The shadowy, as the sunlit hours, That holy Will confess. Death holds no secret slumber-bowers For our unfaithfulness.