Fortissima

A few brief hours made happy by thy presence, 
     Days filled with pleasant memories of those hours, 
Hopes from those memories born, and thoughts of pleasance 
     That cheer my pathway like the light of flowers— 
Some brief forgetfulness of earth's afflictions,
     Some glimpses through the clouds of love divine — 
For these I owe thee thanks and benedictions, 
     And freight my verse with prayers for thee and thine.

But, ah! how swiftly fled those hours elysian!
     Like a bright star-beam through a rifted storm, 
Glancing a moment, thou didst bless my vision,
     An angel-presence, beautiful and warm. 
Then, by the greedy dark devoured, the glory
     Whose radiant baptism thrilled my heart and brain 
Passed from mine eye. 'Tis but the old, sad story 
     Of kindred souls dissevered, told again.

Yet thou hast blest me with new hope, new daring ;
     Thy brave, true spirit, permeating mine, 
With its strong faith rebuked my weak despairing,
     And my faint heart drank energy from thine. 
In thy prophetic eyes I saw the earnest
     Of "the good time" whose advent thou canst scan, 
The reign of brotherhood for which thou yearnest,
     When man no more shall trample upon man.

And now, afar from thee, yet not from sorrow,
     Sweet memories come my saddened soul to cheer; 
Thy voice, clear-cadenced, from whose tones I borrow 
     Hope for the future, greets again my ear. 
Once more thy soul looks forth from eyes that thrill me 
     With a most pure delight; I see the glow 
That flushes thy pale cheek, while thoughts that fill me 
     With grand, vague yearnings from thy lips o'erflow.

Ah ! couldst thou to my spiritual sense be present
     Ever as now, I should forget my fears, 
Knowing that evil must be evanescent,
     And good triumphant through the eternal years! 
Thine eyes should teach me this sublime evangel,
     For in their light all skeptic thoughts are dumb,
And faith should hail thee as the herald-angel
     Of earth's true golden age that soon shall come.

Thy sunlike soul my weary way hath lighted
     Through doubts and fears that veil the heavens in gloom; 
So fails not wholly, 'mid despair benighted,
     The faith, that evil hastens to its doom. 
For this, new strengthened by the prophet-voices
     Speaking in silence through thy life to mine — 
Nor less for patience that from rudest noises
     Can deftly fashion harmonies divine;

For courage that can overleap disaster,
     And strive, and wait, and suffer, and endure, 
While victory tarries, and the wrong is master
     Over the millions of earth's struggling poor; 
For the true love that binds thee fast to duty;
     For the great hopes that brighten from afar, 
And fill the soul with their divinest beauty,
     Thou shall henceforth be called — FORTISSIMA.