Page:The poetical works of Matthew Arnold, 1897.djvu/495

Rh And thou, O Abbey gray!

Predestined to the ray

By this dear guest over thy precinct shed—

Fear not but that thy light once more shall burn,

Once more thine immemorial gleam return,

Though sunk be now this bright, this gracious head!

Let but the light appear

And thy transfigured walls be touch'd with flame—

Our Arthur will again be present here,

Again from lip to lip will pass his name.

GEIST'S GRAVE.

years!—and didst thou stay above

The ground, which hides thee now, but four?

And all that life, and all that love,

Were crowded, Geist! into no more?

Only four years those winning ways,

Which make me for thy presence yearn,

Call'd us to pet thee or to praise,

Dear little friend! at every turn?

That loving heart, that patient soul,

Had they indeed no longer span,

To run their course, and reach their goal,

And read their homily to man?

That liquid, melancholy eye,

From whose pathetic, soul-fed springs

Seem'd surging the Virgilian cry,

The sense of tears in mortal things—