Since shade relents, since 'tis indeed the day, Since hope I long had deemed forever flown, Wings back to me that call on her and pray, Since so much joy consents to be my own,— The dark designs all I relinquish here, And all the evil dreams. Ah, done am I Above all with the narrowed lips, the sneer, The heartless wit that laughed where one should sigh. Away, clenched fist and bosom's angry swell, That knave and fool at every turn abound. Away, hard unforgivingness! Farewell, Oblivion in a hated brewage found! For I mean, now a Being of the Morn Has shed across my night excelling rays Of love at once immortal and newborn,— By favor of her smile, her glance, her grace, I mean by you upheld, O gentle hand, Wherein mine trembles,—led, sweet eyes, by you, To walk straight, lie the path o'er mossy land Or barren waste that rocks and pebbles strew. Yes, calm I mean to walk through life, and straight, Patient of all, unanxious of the goal, Void of all envy, violence, or hate It shall be duty done with cheerful soul. And as I may, to lighten the long way, Go singing airs ingenuous and brave, She'll listen to me graciously, I say,— And, verily, no other heaven I crave. 'avant Que Tu T'en Ailles.' |