Shadows

THERE are shadows on the wall;How they dance! now rise, now fall;And they hold a wealth of pictures in their grim, gigantic palms,Scenes from life's great storms and calms.

They are glancing to and fro,All above me and below;And they seem old friends of childhood that have seen my sweetest days,Known my Aprils and my Mays.

In the sunniest days of JuneWhen I heard the mock-bird's tune,The blue sky was not so cloudless but below me on the grassI beheld the shadows pass:

Or a bird upon the wingFluttered and forgot to sing,And below his shadow floated. There are always shadows nearAnd my heart but holds them dear.

Ah! so many scenes arise,Each a sweet or sad surprise;Brought me by the magic shadows as the western colors glowAnd the skies more sombre grow;

Shadows, shadows on the wallHow I love you as you fall!Not a fear you bring my spirit, but a sweet and holy restAnd a trust that all is best.

I shall welcome you againWhen you bring release from pain:I shall dream a little longer, then your arms will compass me,And my sleep will silent be.