In St. James's Park

I WATCHED the swans in that proud park,
Which England’s Queen looks out upon ;
I sat there till the dewy dark,
And every other soul was gone ;
And sitting silent, all alone,
I seemed to hear a spirit say,
Be calm ; the night is : never moan
For friendships that have passed away.

The swans that vanished from thy sight
Will come to-morrow, at their hour;
But when thy joys have taken flight,
To bring them back no prayer hath power.
’T is the world’s law ; and why deplore
A doom that from thy birth was fate ?
True, 't is a bitter word, “No more!”
But look beyond this mortal state.

Believ’st thou in eternal things ?
Thou knowest, in thy inmost heart,
Thou art not clay ; thy soul hath wings,
And what thou seest is but part.
Make this thy med’cine for the smart
Of every day’s distress : Be dumb,
In each new loss thou truly art
Tasting the power of things to come.