CAN it be that the glory of manhood has passed,
That its purpose, its passion, its might,
Have all paled with the fervor that fed them at last,
As the twilight comes down with the night?
Call it be I have lived, dreamed, and labored in vain--
That above me, unconquered and bright,
The proud goal I had aimed at is taunting my pain,
As the twilight comes down with the night?
Can it be that my hopes, which seemed noble and fair,
Were predestined to mildew and blight?
Ah! sad disenchantment! that bids me beware
Of a twilight which heralds the night!
The glad days, the brave years that were lusty and long--
How they fade on vague memory's sight!
And their joys are like echoes of jubilant song,
As the twilight comes down with the night!
All the past is o'ershadowed, the present is dim,
And could earth's fairest future requite
The worn spirit that swoons, the racked senses that swim,
In this dread of the twilight and night?
There is dew on my raiment; the sea winds wail low,
As lost birds, wafted wave-ward in flight,
And all Nature grows cold, as my heart in its woe,
At the advent of twilight and night!
From the realm of dead sunset scarce darkened as yet--
Over hills mist-enshrouded and white,
A deep sigh of ineffable, mournful regret,
Seems exhaled 'twixt the twilight and night!
O! thou genius of art! I have worshipped and blessed;
O! thou soul of all beauty and light!
Lift me up in thine arms, give me warmth from thy breast,
Ere the twilight be merged in the night!
Let me draw from thy bosom miraculous breath,
And for once, on song's uppermost height,
I may chant to the nations such music in death
As shall mock at the twilight and night!
