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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
America: Vols. XXV–XXIX. 1876–79.

New England: Plymouth, N. H.

Death of Hawthorne

By Annie Adams Fields (1834–1915)

HE rose upon an early dawn of May,

And looked upon the stream and meadow flowers,

Then on the face of his beloved, and went;

And, passing, gazed upon the wayside haunt,

The homely budding gardens by the road,

And harvest promise,—still he said, I go.

Once more he mingled in the midday crowd,

And smiled a gentle smile, a sweet farewell,

Then moved towards the hills and laid him down.

Lying, he looked beyond the pathless heights,

Beyond the wooded steep and clouded peaks,

And, looking, questioned, then he loved and slept.

And while he slept his spirit walked abroad,

And wandered past the mountain, past the cloud,

Nor came again to rouse the form at peace.

Though like some bird we strive to follow him,

Fruitless we beat at the horizon’s verge,

And fruitless seek the fathomless blue beyond.

We work and wait, and water with salt tears,

Learning to live that living we may sleep,

And sleeping cross the mountains to God’s rest.