Is it so far from thee <br />Thou canst no longer see, <br />In the Chamber over the Gate, <br />That old man desolate, <br />Weeping and wailing sore <br />For his son, who is no more? <br />O Absalom, my son! <br /> <br />Is it so long ago <br />That cry of human woe <br />From the walled city came, <br />Calling on his dear name, <br />That it has died away <br />In the distance of to-day? <br />O Absalom, my son! <br /> <br />There is no far or near, <br />There is neither there nor here, <br />There is neither soon nor late, <br />In that Chamber over the Gate, <br />Nor any long ago <br />To that cry of human woe, <br />O Absalom, my son! <br /> <br />From the ages that are past <br />The voice sounds like a blast, <br />Over seas that wreck and drown, <br />Over tumult of traffic and town; <br />And from ages yet to be <br />Come the echoes back to me, <br />O Absalom, my son! <br /> <br />Somewhere at every hour <br />The watchman on the tower <br />Looks forth, and sees the fleet <br />Approach of the hurrying feet <br />Of messengers, that bear <br />The tidings of despair. <br />O Absalom, my son! <br /> <br />He goes forth from the door <br />Who shall return no more. <br />With him our joy departs; <br />The light goes out in our hearts; <br />In the Chamber over the Gate <br />We sit disconsolate. <br />O Absalom, my son! <br /> <br />That 't is a common grief <br />Bringeth but slight relief; <br />Ours is the bitterest loss, <br />Ours is the heaviest cross; <br />And forever the cry will be <br />'Would God I had died for thee, <br />O Absalom, my son!'<br /><br />Henry Wadsworth Longfellow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-chamber-over-the-gate/
