R. F. Murray: His Poems with a Memoir
THE OUTCAST’S FAREWELL

Andrew Lan

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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!

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