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ON THE CLIFF‐TOP.
- FACE upward to the sky
- Quiet I lie:
- Quiet as if the finger of God’s will
- Had bade this human mechanism “be still!”
- And sent the intangible essence, this strange I,
- All wondering forth to His eternity.
- Below, the sea’s sound, faint
- As dying saint
- Telling of gone‐by sorrows long at rest:
- Above, the fearless sea‐gull’s shimmering breast
- Painted a moment on the dark blue skies—
- A hovering joy, that while I watch it flies.
- Alike unheeded now
- Old griefs, and thou
- Quick‐wingèd Joy, that like a bird at play
- Pleasest thyself to visit me to‐day:
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- On the cliff‐top, earth dim and heaven clear,
- My soul lies calmly, above hope—or fear.
- But not—(do Thou forbid
- Whose stainless lid
- Wept tears at Lazarus’ grave, and looking down
- Afar off, upon Solyma’s doomed town.)
- Ah, not above love—human yet divine—
- Which, Thee seen first, in Thee sees all of Thine!
- Is’t sunset? The keen breeze
- Blows from the seas:
- And at my side a pleasant vision stands
- With her brown eyes and kind extended hands.
- Dear, we’ll go down together and full fain
- From the cliff‐top to the busy world again.
