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John Banister Tabb
Last Lines


A mountain stirred.

Again in green?

Alike must flow again.

Alone discerneth each by name.

An echo in my soul!

And bless the night.

And drained her nectary.

And dream-imagined utterance.

And fills the world with rapture and with light.

And heavenly song were one.

And I have many a mile to go.

And keep them one -- is mine.

And lift to Heaven a lost humanity.

And rejoice in the beat of the rain!

And see us with your eyes?

And silent flowers by night.

Arise! thou hast inherited the sky.

As seen of others' eyes.

At twilight meet again!

Bearing blossoms of thy kind.

Behold in me!

Betrayed unworded sympathies.

But soul to soul and heart to heart.

Each bank of sundering Death.

Enshrined thee in my heart of heart.

Flower of Easter morn.

Forgets Utility.

Had blossomed in the gloom!

Hangs the half of a ring for me.

How can I die?

In bonds of Beauty, one.

In spheres of gold.

In the soul of all beauty is one.

Is mystery of mysteries to me.

Its shadow falls alike on thee and me!

Join in to get Him back His ball!

Leaps heavenward with thine.

Left her garment in the tide.

Let now my soul depart.

Life again.

Life in Time's captivity.

Life's emptiness!

Love's majesty must look below.

Measures but a falling tear.

Never thence wilt thou.

Nor, save together, Thine are we.

Of Age, should sadden even thee.

Of all the vanished Past, we Echoes only stay!

Of Christ, the king.

Of Life and Light.

Of Life, one hovering shade the less?

Of light above.

Of one beloved that comes not back.

Of radiance from above.

Of years, is mine.

One in heavenly desire.

Rabboni!" -- only this.

Sans brains or tongue.

Shall vanish when our own are true.

She hath done what she could.

Still wandering the world with thee?

Such wealth of gold?

That kindred life and mine.

That thou dost love me.

That woos all nature to her silent rest.

The Autumn drifts again.

The bitterness of mine.

The fragrance of her sheltering leaves.

The granary of Sleep.

The Light of Bethlehem!

The pantings of her heart.

The veil of nothingness!

The Winter's threatening tide.

Thou keepest mine.

Tis in thy strength they stand!

To ecstasy of song.

To greet thee there.

To render God the things of God.

To the calm of the cloister Night!

Unmakes the dream!

Unscattered still.

Untouched of human tenderness.

Waits the resurrection morn.

We each and all thine image keep?

Were not His mother there.

What noon hath never heard!

Whence the rain is falling.

Wherewith was veiled Divinity.

With dreams of May.

With the immortal Past.

Would fill its wintry cells.

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Pink and White Roses, 1890

By

Vincent Van Gogh

24x21 Fine Art Print

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