Your place is Heaven, a stormless nightless home?
Then we twain never more shall live together
Such days of gladdest thought as here, whilom,
We spent amid the change of earthly weather.
No white young day like hope smiles in yon east,
Or, westering, cleaves wild-omened scarlet glooms;
No frosty breezes wreathe your woods in mist;
No breaker o'er Heaven's glassy ocean booms.
No scents of delvéd dewy soil arise;
No storm-blue pall in state hangs hill or lea;
No nightly seas swirl in grey agonies;
Nor old Earth's sweet decays dye herb or tree.
Do wan gold tints shot on the midnight air
Herald the moon that loiters far away?
Or moony sea-gleams peep and beckon there
From sapphire dark or mystic silver grey?
No, not the olden pleasure shall be there
We knew, before the grass sprang o'er your breast;
Yet that is yours which here hearts cannot share —
Heaven's summer peace eterne and noonday rest.