POETRY.
ACCIDENT.
WHAT strange, unreasoned impulse takes By devious ways our aimless feet, The unimagined doom to meet ?
For still the fatal thunder breaks From skies that promise peace. Wego, Scarce e'en on trivial errand bent,
And heed not, and the stroke is sent That lays life's pleasant fabric low,—
Long days of dear domestic peace, Love into closer union grown, The newer knowledge made our own, And ever, as the years increase, Some clearer height of wisdom won, And schemes of joyous travel planned
To holy place or classic land, Or marvel of the midnight sun,— All things that counterchange our days With varied light of toil and ease,—
Laborious joys, and cares that please, Constraint of duty, sweets of praise ;
One step, and over love and light,
Things hoped and things achieved, the all We are and were to be, will fall The mournless, unremembering night. A. J. C.
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