Moods van William Edward Hartpole Lecky

OH happy the hour when morning breaks
And the spirit of man refreshed awakes,
Eager and strong for its daily strife,
Too busy to think of the ills of life ;
And happy the hour of the setting sun,
When the battle is over, the labour is done,
And the weary fly home, like the bird to the nest,
And the voice of the loved one is calling to rest !
'Tis the hour of peace when our troubles depart,
And the calm in the evening is felt in the heart.

But laden with care move the hours of the night,
When sleepless, yet weary, we measure their flight,
When the darkness around us has thrown its hue
Om all we think and on all we do ;
And the heart grows chill with a sudden fear,
And the things that we dread the most seem near,
And we think of the dead who lie sleeping below,
And of those whom we love who may soon be so ;
Of age and of weakness, of sickness and pain,
And all our lives seem hollow and vain,

So fast they fly, and the long grass waves
Tangled and dank on our graves ;
And the steps of the last of the mourners have gone,
And we are forgot, while the world rolls on.
For the hearts we love and the things we prize,
They pass like the swarms of the summer flies,
Or the clouds that float on an idle wind,
And leave not a trace in the world behind.


William Edward Hartpole Lecky (1838-1903)
Uit Poems (1891)
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Van deze auteur kunt u het gedicht He found his work but could not find vinden op de fin de siècle website All art is quite useless van rond1900.nl.
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Afbeelding: Karikatuur van W.E.H. Lecky door Spy, afgedrukt in Vanity Fair, 1882.