Question and Answer

"Can the soul die, believe you?Because it seems to meMy soul is dead and buried,So still it seems to be.

"It quivers not with joy;It moaneth not with pain;There is no note in natureAwakens it again.

"Those white clouds in the azure;Those lanes; those breezy trees;Those softly gliding swallows;Those fluted melodies;

"Those shadows in the meadows,Running a fitful race;With pleasure once they thrilled me,But coldly now I gaze."

Fear not; oh! not so lightlyThe soul of mortal dies;It has but wept itself to sleep,And all unconscious lies.

The surging feelings overwrought,They have but ebbed away,And left the soul a little whileWith all their changeful spray.

But stronger, deeper, fuller, inThe billowy tide will roll,And overflood, with life and love,The ever living soul.