The Poetry Corner

The Outcast's Farewell

By Robert Fuller Murray

The sun is banished, The daylight vanished, No rosy traces Are left behind. Here in the meadow I watch the shadow Of forms and faces Upon your blind. Through swift transitions, In new positions, My eyes still follow One shape most fair. My heart delaying Awhile, is playing With pleasures hollow, Which mock despair. I feel so lonely, I long once only To pass an hour With you, O sweet! To touch your fingers, Where fragrance lingers From some rare flower, And kiss your feet. But not this even To me is given. Of all sad mortals Most sad am I, Never to meet you, Never to greet you, Nor pass your portals Before I die. All men scorn me, Not one will mourn me, When from their city I pass away. Will you to-morrow Recall with sorrow Him whom with pity You saw to-day? Outcast and lonely, One thing only Beyond misgiving I hold for true, That, had you known me, You would have shown me A life worth living-- A life for you. Yes: five years younger My manhood's hunger Had you come filling With plenty sweet, My life so nourished, Had grown and flourished, Had God been willing That we should meet. How vain to fashion From dreams and passion The rich existence Which might have been! Can God's own power Recall the hour, Or bridge the distance That lies between? Before the morning, From pain and scorning I sail death's river To sleep or hell. To you is given The life of heaven. Farewell for ever, Farewell, farewell!