THE FUTURE.

A MASSIVE wall of midnight darkness framed,

Before the eager, questioning eyes of men

The Future stands, and only echoes back,

In softened cadence and the selfsame words,

The loud petitions or low-murmured prayers,

All vainly hurled against the unpitying gloom.

Yet as the Night chased by her lover Sun

Flies round the globe in maiden modesty,

Nor dares to meet the lightning of his glance,

So evermore the Future melts away

Before the Now, and dies into the Past,

Yet still lives on, and, mocking, flies before,

And from the unreckoned treasures of its wealth

Throws back but dreams and wild imaginings,

That tempt us onward o'er a hidden path.