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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Riley Love-Lyrics, by James Whitcomb Riley
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Riley Love-Lyrics
+
+Author: James Whitcomb Riley
+
+Release Date: November 4, 2005 [EBook #16995]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RILEY LOVE-LYRICS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Lybarger, Brian Janes, Diane Monico,
+and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+RILEY LOVE-LYRICS
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (LOVE-LYRICS)]
+
+
+
+
+RILEY
+LOVE-LYRICS
+
+
+JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY
+
+
+WITH LIFE PICTURES BY
+WILLIAM B. DYER
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+NEW YORK
+GROSSET & DUNLAP
+PUBLISHERS
+
+Copyright, 1883, 1887, 1888, 1890, 1891, 1892, 1894,
+1897, 1898, 1901, 1905
+
+by
+
+James Whitcomb Riley
+
+
+
+
+INSCRIBED
+
+
+To the Elect of Love,--or side-by-side
+In raptest ecstasy, or sundered wide
+By seas that bear no message to or fro
+Between the loved and lost of long ago.
+
+
+
+
+So were I but a minstrel, deft
+  At weaving, with the trembling strings
+Of my glad harp, the warp and weft
+  Of rondels such as rapture sings,--
+    I'd loop my lyre across my breast,
+    Nor stay me till my knee found rest
+    In midnight banks of bud and flower
+    Beneath my lady's lattice-bower.
+
+And there, drenched with the teary dews,
+  I'd woo her with such wondrous art
+As well might stanch the songs that ooze
+  Out of the mockbird's breaking heart;
+    So light, so tender, and so sweet
+    Should be the words I would repeat,
+    Her casement, on my gradual sight,
+    Would blossom as a lily might.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+                                            PAGE
+
+BLOOMS OF MAY                                185
+
+DISCOURAGING MODEL, A                        133
+
+"DREAM"                                       46
+
+FARMER WHIPPLE--BACHELOR                     167
+
+HAS SHE FORGOTTEN?                           181
+
+HE AND I                                      83
+
+HE CALLED HER IN                              50
+
+HER BEAUTIFUL EYES                            60
+
+HER HAIR                                     128
+
+HER FACE AND BROW                             63
+
+HER WAITING FACE                              71
+
+HOME AT NIGHT                                122
+
+HOW IT HAPPENED                               95
+
+IKE WALTON'S PRAYER                          107
+
+ILLILEO                                      111
+
+JUDITH                                        79
+
+LAST NIGHT AND THIS                          131
+
+LEONAINIE                                     68
+
+LET US FORGET                                 64
+
+LOST PATH, THE                                87
+
+MY BRIDE THAT IS TO BE                        90
+
+MY MARY                                      117
+
+NOTHIN' TO SAY                               103
+
+OLD PLAYED-OUT SONG, A'                       31
+
+OLD SWEETHEART OF MINE, AN                    23
+
+OLD YEAR AND THE NEW, THE                     72
+
+OUT-WORN SAPPHO, AN                           37
+
+PASSING OF A HEART, THE                       44
+
+RIVAL, THE                                   148
+
+ROSE, THE                                    178
+
+SERMON OF THE ROSE, THE                      189
+
+SONG OF LONG AGO, A                          160
+
+SUSPENSE                                     136
+
+THEIR SWEET SORROW                            76
+
+TO HEAR HER SING                             146
+
+TOM VAN ARDEN                                139
+
+TOUCHES OF HER HANDS, THE                    157
+
+VARIATION, A                                 151
+
+VERY YOUTHFUL AFFAIR, A                       36
+
+WHEN AGE COMES ON                            164
+
+WHEN LIDE MARRIED _Him_                      125
+
+WHEN MY DREAMS COME TRUE                      99
+
+WHEN SHE COMES HOME                           67
+
+WHERE SHALL WE LAND                          154
+
+WIFE-BLESSED, THE                            115
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+                                            PAGE
+
+LOVE-LYRICS                         FRONTISPIECE
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS--TAILPIECE                      xx
+
+AN OLD SWEETHEART OF MINE                     23
+
+AND I LIGHT MY PIPE IN SILENCE                24
+
+THE VOICES OF MY CHILDREN                     25
+
+THE PINK SUNBONNET                            26
+
+WHEN FIRST I KISSED HER                       27
+
+MY WIFE IS STANDING THERE                     30
+
+A' OLD PLAYED-OUT SONG                        33
+
+A' OLD PLAYED-OUT SONG--TAILPIECE             35
+
+A VERY YOUTHFUL AFFAIR                        36
+
+AN OUT-WORN SAPPHO                            41
+
+AN OUT-WORN SAPPHO--TAILPIECE                 43
+
+THE PASSING OF A HEART--TITLE                 44
+
+THE PASSING OF A HEART--TAILPIECE             45
+
+"DREAM"                                       47
+
+"DREAM"--TAILPIECE                            49
+
+HE CALLED HER IN--TITLE                       50
+
+A DARK AND EERIE CHILD                        51
+
+WHEN SHE FIRST CAME TO ME                     57
+
+HE CALLED HER IN--TAILPIECE                   59
+
+HER BEAUTIFUL EYES                            61
+
+HER FACE AND BROW                             63
+
+LET US FORGET--TITLE                          64
+
+OUR WORN EYES ARE WET                         65
+
+WHEN SHE COMES HOME                           67
+
+LEONAINIE--TITLE                              68
+
+LEONAINIE--TAILPIECE                          70
+
+HER WAITING FACE                              71
+
+THE OLD YEAR AND THE NEW--TITLE               72
+
+I SAW THE OLD YEAR END                        73
+
+THEIR SWEET SORROW                            77
+
+JUDITH                                        79
+
+O, HER EYES ARE AMBER-FINE                    81
+
+HE AND I                                      85
+
+THE LOST PATH--TITLE                          87
+
+THE LOST PATH                                 89
+
+MADONNA-LIKE AND GLORIFIED                    91
+
+HOW IT HAPPENED                               97
+
+WHEN MY DREAMS COME TRUE                     101
+
+NOTHIN' TO SAY                               105
+
+IKE WALTON'S PRAYER--TITLE                   107
+
+IKE WALTON'S PRAYER--TAILPIECE               110
+
+ILLILEO                                      113
+
+WIFE-BLESSED, THE                            115
+
+THE AULD TRYSTING-TREE                       119
+
+MY MARY--TAILPIECE                           121
+
+HOME AT NIGHT                                123
+
+WHEN LIDE MARRIED _Him_--TITLE               125
+
+WHEN LIDE MARRIED _Him_--TAILPIECE           127
+
+HER HAIR                                     129
+
+LAST NIGHT AND THIS--TITLE                   131
+
+LAST NIGHT AND THIS--TAILPIECE               132
+
+A DISCOURAGING MODEL--TITLE                  133
+
+A CAMEO FACE                                 135
+
+SUSPENSE                                     137
+
+TOM VAN ARDEN--TITLE                         139
+
+TOM VAN ARDEN                                141
+
+TO HEAR HER SING                             146
+
+THE RIVAL                                    148
+
+A VARIATION--TITLE                           151
+
+WHERE SHALL WE LAND?--TITLE                  154
+
+WHERE SHALL WE LAND?--TAILPIECE              156
+
+THE TOUCHES OF HER HANDS--TITLE              157
+
+THE TOUCHES OF HER HANDS--TAILPIECE          158
+
+O RARELY SOFT, THE TOUCHES OF HER HANDS      159
+
+A SONG OF LONG AGO                           161
+
+WHEN AGE COMES ON                            165
+
+FARMER WHIPPLE--BACHELOR--TITLE              167
+
+RIDIN' HOME WITH MARY                        171
+
+FARMER WHIPPLE--BACHELOR--TAILPIECE          177
+
+THE ROSE--TITLE                              178
+
+HAS SHE FORGOTTEN?                           183
+
+BLOOMS OF MAY--TITLE                         185
+
+O LAD AND LASS                               186
+
+O GLEAM AND GLOOM AND WOODLAND BLOOM         187
+
+THE SERMON OF THE ROSE                       191
+
+[Illustration: (ILLUSTRATIONS--TAILPIECE)]
+
+
+
+
+RILEY LOVE-LYRICS
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (AN OLD SWEETHEART OF MINE)]
+
+
+
+
+AN OLD SWEETHEART OF MINE
+
+
+As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone,
+And muses on the faces of the friends that he has known,
+So I turn the leaves of fancy till, in shadowy design,
+I find the smiling features of an old sweetheart of mine.
+
+[Illustration: (AND I LIGHT MY PIPE IN SILENCE)]
+
+The lamplight seems to glimmer with a flicker of surprise,
+As I turn it low to rest me of the dazzle in my eyes,
+And light my pipe in silence, save a sigh that seems to yoke
+Its fate with my tobacco and to vanish with the smoke.
+
+'Tis a fragrant retrospection--for the loving thoughts that start
+Into being are like perfume from the blossom of the heart;
+And to dream the old dreams over is a luxury divine--
+When my truant fancy wanders with that old sweetheart of mine.
+
+Though I hear, beneath my study, like a fluttering of wings,
+The voices of my children, and the mother as she sings,
+I feel no twinge of conscience to deny me any theme
+When Care has cast her anchor in the harbor of a dream.
+
+In fact, to speak in earnest, I believe it adds a charm
+To spice the good a trifle with a little dust of harm--
+For I find an extra flavor in Memory's mellow wine
+That makes me drink the deeper to that old sweetheart of mine.
+
+[Illustration: (THE VOICES OF MY CHILDREN)]
+
+[Illustration: (THE PINK SUNBONNET)]
+
+A face of lily-beauty, with a form of airy grace,
+Floats out of my tobacco as the genii from the vase;
+And I thrill beneath the glances of a pair of azure eyes
+As glowing as the summer and as tender as the skies.
+
+I can see the pink sunbonnet and the little checkered dress
+She wore when first I kissed her and she answered the caress
+With the written declaration that, "as surely as the vine
+Grew round the stump," she loved me--that old sweetheart of mine.
+
+[Illustration: (WHEN FIRST I KISSED HER)]
+
+And again I feel the pressure of her slender little hand,
+As we used to talk together of the future we had planned--
+When I should be a poet, and with nothing else to do
+But write the tender verses that she set the music to:
+
+When we should live together in a cozy little cot
+Hid in a nest of roses, with a fairy garden-spot,
+Where the vines were ever fruited, and the weather ever fine,
+And the birds were ever singing for that old sweetheart of mine:
+
+[Illustration]
+
+When I should be her lover forever and a day,
+And she my faithful sweetheart till the golden hair was gray;
+And we should be so happy that when either's lips were dumb
+They would not smile in Heaven till the other's kiss had come.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+But, ah! my dream is broken by a step upon the stair,
+And the door is softly opened, and--my wife is standing there;
+Yet with eagerness and rapture all my visions I resign
+To greet the living presence of that old sweetheart of mine.
+
+[Illustration: (MY WIFE IS STANDING THERE)]
+
+
+
+
+A' OLD PLAYED-OUT SONG
+
+
+It's the curiousest thing in creation,
+  Whenever I hear that old song
+"Do They Miss Me at Home," I'm so bothered,
+  My life seems as short as it's long!--
+Fer ev'rything 'pears like adzackly
+  It 'peared in the years past and gone,--
+When I started out sparkin', at twenty,
+  And had my first neckercher on!
+
+Though I'm wrinkelder, older and grayer
+  Right now than my parents was then,
+You strike up that song "Do They Miss Me,"
+  And I'm jest a youngster again!--
+I'm a-standin' back thare in the furries
+  A-wishin' fer evening to come,
+And a-whisperin' over and over
+  Them words "Do They Miss Me at Home?"
+
+You see, _Marthy Ellen she_ sung it
+  The first time I heerd it; and so,
+As she was my very first sweetheart,
+  It reminds me of her, don't you know;--
+How her face used to look, in the twilight,
+  As I tuck her to Spellin'; and she
+Kep' a-hummin' that song tel I ast her,
+  Pine-blank, ef she ever missed _me_!
+
+I can shet my eyes now, as you sing it,
+  And hear her low answerin' words;
+And then the glad chirp of the crickets,
+  As clear as the twitter of birds;
+And the dust in the road is like velvet,
+  And the ragweed and fennel and grass
+Is as sweet as the scent of the lilies
+  Of Eden of old, as we pass.
+
+"_Do They Miss Me at Home?_" Sing it lower--
+  And softer--and sweet as the breeze
+That powdered our path with the snowy
+  White bloom of the old locus'-trees!
+Let the whipperwills he'p you to sing it,
+  And the echoes 'way over the hill,
+Tel the moon boolges out, in a chorus
+  Of stars, and our voices is still.
+
+[Illustration: (A' OLD PLAYED-OUT SONG)]
+
+But oh! "They's a chord in the music
+  That's missed when _her_ voice is away!"
+Though I listen from midnight tel morning,
+  And dawn tel the dusk of the day!
+And I grope through the dark, lookin' up'ards
+  And on through the heavenly dome,
+With my longin' soul singin' and sobbin'
+  The words "Do They Miss Me at Home?"
+
+[Illustration: (A' OLD PLAYED-OUT SONG--TAILPIECE)]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (A VERY YOUTHFUL AFFAIR)]
+
+A VERY YOUTHFUL AFFAIR
+
+
+I'm bin a-visitun 'bout a week
+To my little Cousin's at Nameless Creek,
+An' I'm got the hives an' a new straw hat,
+An' I'm come back home where my beau lives at.
+
+
+
+
+AN OUT-WORN SAPPHO
+
+
+How tired I am! I sink down all alone
+  Here by the wayside of the Present. Lo,
+Even as a child I hide my face and moan--
+  A little girl that may no farther go;
+  The path above me only seems to grow
+    More rugged, climbing still, and ever briered
+  With keener thorns of pain than these below;
+  And O the bleeding feet that falter so
+      And are so very tired!
+
+Why, I have journeyed from the far-off Lands
+  Of Babyhood--where baby-lilies blew
+Their trumpets in mine ears, and filled my hands
+  With treasures of perfume and honey-dew,
+  And where the orchard shadows ever drew
+    Their cool arms round me when my cheeks were fired
+  With too much joy, and lulled mine eyelids to,
+  And only let the starshine trickle through
+      In sprays, when I was tired!
+
+Yet I remember, when the butterfly
+  Went flickering about me like a flame
+That quenched itself in roses suddenly,
+  How oft I wished that _I_ might blaze the same,
+  And in some rose-wreath nestle with my name,
+    While all the world looked on it and admired.--
+  Poor moth!--Along my wavering flight toward fame
+  The winds drive backward, and my wings are lame
+      And broken, bruised and tired!
+
+I hardly know the path from those old times;
+  I know at first it was a smoother one
+Than this that hurries past me now, and climbs
+  So high, its far cliffs even hide the sun
+  And shroud in gloom my journey scarce begun.
+    I could not do quite all the world required--
+  I could not do quite all I should have done,
+  And in my eagerness I have outrun
+      My strength--and I am tired....
+
+Just tired! But when of old I had the stay
+  Of mother-hands, O very sweet indeed
+It was to dream that all the weary way
+  I should but follow where I now must lead--
+  For long ago they left me in my need,
+    And, groping on alone, I tripped and mired
+  Among rank grasses where the serpents breed
+  In knotted coils about the feet of speed.--
+      There first it was I tired.
+
+And yet I staggered on, and bore my load
+  Right gallantly: The sun, in summer-time,
+In lazy belts came slipping down the road
+  To woo me on, with many a glimmering rhyme
+  Rained from the golden rim of some fair clime,
+    That, hovering beyond the clouds, inspired
+  My failing heart with fancies so sublime
+  I half forgot my path of dust and grime,
+      Though I was growing tired.
+
+And there were many voices cheering me:
+  I listened to sweet praises where the wind
+Went laughing o'er my shoulders gleefully
+  And scattering my love-songs far behind;--
+  Until, at last, I thought the world so kind--
+    So rich in all my yearning soul desired--
+  So generous--so loyally inclined,
+  I grew to love and trust it.... I was blind--
+      Yea, blind as I was tired!
+
+And yet one hand held me in creature-touch:
+  And O, how fair it was, how true and strong,
+How it did hold my heart up like a crutch,
+  Till, in my dreams, I joyed to walk along
+  The toilsome way, contented with a song--
+    'Twas all of earthly things I had acquired,
+  And 'twas enough, I feigned, or right or wrong,
+  Since, binding me to man--a mortal thong--
+    It stayed me, growing tired....
+
+Yea, I had e'en resigned me to the strait
+  Of earthly rulership--had bowed my head
+Acceptant of the master-mind--the great
+  One lover--lord of all,--the perfected
+  Kiss-comrade of my soul;--had stammering said
+    My prayers to him;--all--all that he desired
+  I rendered sacredly as we were wed.--
+  Nay--nay!--'twas but a myth I worshipped.--
+      And--God of love!--how tired!
+
+[Illustration: (AN OUT-WORN SAPPHO)]
+
+For, O my friends, to lose the latest grasp--
+  To feel the last hope slipping from its hold--
+To feel the one fond hand within your clasp
+  Fall slack, and loosen with a touch so cold
+  Its pressure may not warm you as of old
+    Before the light of love had thus expired--
+  To know your tears are worthless, though they rolled
+  Their torrents out in molten drops of gold.--
+      God's pity! I am tired!
+
+And I must rest.--Yet do not say "She _died_,"
+  In speaking of me, sleeping here alone.
+I kiss the grassy grave I sink beside,
+  And close mine eyes in slumber all mine own:
+  Hereafter I shall neither sob nor moan
+    Nor murmur one complaint;--all I desired,
+  And failed in life to find, will now be known--
+  So let me dream. Good night! And on the stone
+      Say simply: She was tired.
+
+[Illustration: (AN OUT-WORN SAPPHO--TAILPIECE)]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (THE PASSING OF A HEART--TITLE)]
+
+THE PASSING OF A HEART
+
+
+O Touch me with your hands--
+                             For pity's sake!
+My brow throbs ever on with such an ache
+As only your cool touch may take away;
+And so, I pray
+               You, touch me with your hands!
+
+Touch--touch me with your hands.--
+                         Smooth back the hair
+You once caressed, and kissed, and called so fair
+That I did dream its gold would wear alway,
+And lo, to-day--
+                  O touch me with your hands!
+
+Just touch me with your hands,
+                           And let them press
+My weary eyelids with the old caress,
+And lull me till I sleep. Then go your way,
+That Death may say:
+               He touched her with his hands.
+
+[Illustration: (THE PASSING OF A HEART--TAILPIECE)]
+
+
+
+
+"DREAM"
+
+
+Because her eyes were far too deep
+And holy for a laugh to leap
+Across the brink where sorrow tried
+To drown within the amber tide;
+Because the looks, whose ripples kissed
+The trembling lids through tender mist,
+Were dazzled with a radiant gleam--
+Because of this I called her "Dream."
+
+Because the roses growing wild
+About her features when she smiled
+Were ever dewed with tears that fell
+With tenderness ineffable;
+Because her lips might spill a kiss
+That, dripping in a world like this,
+Would tincture death's myrrh-bitter stream
+To sweetness--so I called her "Dream."
+
+[Illustration: ("DREAM")]
+
+Because I could not understand
+The magic touches of a hand
+That seemed, beneath her strange control,
+To smooth the plumage of the soul
+And calm it, till, with folded wings,
+It half forgot its flutterings,
+And, nestled in her palm, did seem
+To trill a song that called her "Dream."
+
+Because I saw her, in a sleep
+As dark and desolate and deep
+And fleeting as the taunting night
+That flings a vision of delight
+To some lorn martyr as he lies
+In slumber ere the day he dies--
+Because she vanished like a gleam
+Of glory, do I call her "Dream."
+
+[Illustration: ("DREAM"--TAILPIECE)]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (HE CALLED HER IN--TITLE)]
+
+HE CALLED HER IN
+
+
+I
+
+He called her in from me and shut the door.
+And she so loved the sunshine and the sky!--
+She loved them even better yet than I
+That ne'er knew dearth of them--my mother dead,
+Nature had nursed me in her lap instead:
+And I had grown a dark and eerie child
+That rarely smiled,
+Save when, shut all alone in grasses high,
+Looking straight up in God's great lonesome sky
+And coaxing Mother to smile back on me.
+'Twas lying thus, this fair girl suddenly
+Came to me, nestled in the fields beside
+A pleasant-seeming home, with doorway wide--
+The sunshine beating in upon the floor
+
+[Illustration: (A DARK AND EERIE CHILD)]
+
+Like golden rain.--
+O sweet, sweet face above me, turn again
+And leave me! I had cried, but that an ache
+Within my throat so gripped it I could make
+No sound but a thick sobbing. Cowering so,
+I felt her light hand laid
+Upon my hair--a touch that ne'er before
+Had tamed me thus, all soothed and unafraid--
+It seemed the touch the children used to know
+When Christ was here, so dear it was--so dear,--
+At once I loved her as the leaves love dew
+In midmost summer when the days are new.
+Barely an hour I knew her, yet a curl
+Of silken sunshine did she clip for me
+Out of the bright May-morning of her hair,
+And bound and gave it to me laughingly,
+And caught my hands and called me "_Little girl_,"
+Tiptoeing, as she spoke, to kiss me there!
+And I stood dazed and dumb for very stress
+Of my great happiness.
+She plucked me by the gown, nor saw how mean
+The raiment--drew me with her everywhere:
+Smothered her face in tufts of grasses green:
+Put up her dainty hands and peeped between
+Her fingers at the blossoms--crooned and talked
+To them in strange, glad whispers, as we walked,--
+Said _this_ one was her angel mother--_this_,
+Her baby-sister--come back, for a kiss,
+Clean from the Good-World!--smiled and kissed them, then
+Closed her soft eyes and kissed them o'er again.
+And so did she beguile me--so we played,--
+She was the dazzling Shine--I, the dark Shade--
+And we did mingle like to these, and thus,
+Together, made
+The perfect summer, pure and glorious.
+So blent we, till a harsh voice broke upon
+Our happiness.--She, startled as a fawn,
+Cried, "Oh, 'tis Father!"--all the blossoms gone
+From out her cheeks as those from out her grasp.--
+Harsher the voice came:--She could only gasp
+Affrightedly, "Good-bye!--good-bye! good-bye!"
+And lo, I stood alone, with that harsh cry
+Ringing a new and unknown sense of shame
+Through soul and frame,
+And, with wet eyes, repeating o'er and o'er,--
+"He called her in from me and shut the door!"
+
+
+II
+
+He called her in from me and shut the door!
+And I went wandering alone again--
+So lonely--O so very lonely then,
+I thought no little sallow star, alone
+In all a world of twilight, e'er had known
+Such utter loneliness. But that I wore
+Above my heart that gleaming tress of hair
+To lighten up the night of my despair,
+I think I might have groped into my grave
+Nor cared to wave
+The ferns above it with a breath of prayer.
+And how I hungered for the sweet, sweet face
+That bent above me in my hiding-place
+That day amid the grasses there beside
+Her pleasant home!--"Her _pleasant_ home!" I sighed,
+Remembering;--then shut my teeth and feigned
+The harsh voice calling _me_,--then clinched my nails
+So deeply in my palms, the sharp wounds pained,
+And tossed my face toward heaven, as one who pales
+In splendid martyrdom, with soul serene,
+As near to God as high the guillotine.
+And I had _envied_ her? Not that--O no!
+But I had longed for some sweet haven so!--
+Wherein the tempest-beaten heart might ride
+Sometimes at peaceful anchor, and abide
+Where those that loved me touched me with their hands,
+And looked upon me with glad eyes, and slipped
+Smooth fingers o'er my brow, and lulled the strands
+Of my wild tresses, as they backward tipped
+My yearning face and kissed it satisfied.
+Then bitterly I murmured as before,--
+"He called her in from me and shut the door!"
+
+
+III
+
+He called her in from me and shut the door!
+After long struggling with my pride and pain--
+A weary while it seemed, in which the more
+I held myself from her, the greater fain
+Was I to look upon her face again;--
+At last--at last--half conscious where my feet
+Were faring, I stood waist-deep in the sweet
+Green grasses there where she
+First came to me.--
+The very blossoms she had plucked that day,
+And, at her father's voice, had cast away,
+Around me lay,
+Still bright and blooming in these eyes of mine;
+And as I gathered each one eagerly,
+I pressed it to my lips and drank the wine
+Her kisses left there for the honey-bee.
+Then, after I had laid them with the tress
+
+[Illustration: (WHEN SHE FIRST CAME TO ME)]
+
+Of her bright hair with lingering tenderness,
+I, turning, crept on to the hedge that bound
+Her pleasant-seeming home--but all around
+Was never sign of her!--The windows all
+Were blinded; and I heard no rippling fall
+Of her glad laugh, nor any harsh voice call;--
+But clutching to the tangled grasses, caught
+A sound as though a strong man bowed his head
+And sobbed alone--unloved--uncomforted!--
+And then straightway before
+My tearless eyes, all vividly, was wrought
+A vision that is with me evermore:--
+A little girl that lies asleep, nor hears
+Nor heeds not any voice nor fall of tears.--
+And I sit singing o'er and o'er and o'er,--
+"God called her in from him and shut the door!"
+
+[Illustration: (HE CALLED HER IN--TAILPIECE)]
+
+
+
+
+HER BEAUTIFUL EYES
+
+
+O her beautiful eyes! they are blue as the dew
+On the violet's bloom when the morning is new,
+And the light of their love is the gleam of the sun
+O'er the meadows of Spring where the quick shadows run
+As the morn shifts the mists and the clouds from the skies--
+So I stand in the dawn of her beautiful eyes.
+
+And her beautiful eyes are as mid-day to me,
+When the lily-bell bends with the weight of the bee,
+And the throat of the thrush is a-pulse in the heat,
+And the senses are drugged with the subtle and sweet
+And delirious breaths of the air's lullabies--
+So I swoon in the noon of her beautiful eyes.
+
+O her beautiful eyes! they have smitten mine own
+As a glory glanced down from the glare of the Throne;
+And I reel, and I falter and fall, as afar
+Fell the shepherds that looked on the mystical Star,
+And yet dazed in the tidings that bade them arise--
+So I groped through the night of her beautiful eyes.
+
+[Illustration: (HER BEAUTIFUL EYES)]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (HER FACE AND BROW)]
+
+HER FACE AND BROW
+
+
+Ah, help me! but her face and brow
+Are lovelier than lilies are
+Beneath the light of moon and star
+That smile as they are smiling now--
+White lilies in a pallid swoon
+Of sweetest white beneath the moon--
+White lilies, in a flood of bright
+Pure lucidness of liquid light
+Cascading down some plenilune,
+When all the azure overhead
+Blooms like a dazzling daisy-bed.--
+So luminous her face and brow,
+The luster of their glory, shed
+In memory, even, blinds me now.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (LET US FORGET--TITLE)]
+
+LET US FORGET
+
+
+Let us forget. What matters it that we
+  Once reigned o'er happy realms of long-ago,
+  And talked of love, and let our voices low,
+And ruled for some brief sessions royally?
+What if we sung, or laughed, or wept maybe?
+  It has availed not anything, and so
+  Let it go by that we may better know
+How poor a thing is lost to you and me.
+  But yesterday I kissed your lips, and yet
+Did thrill you not enough to shake the dew
+  From your drenched lids--and missed, with no regret,
+Your kiss shot back, with sharp breaths failing you:
+  And so, to-day, while our worn eyes are wet
+  With all this waste of tears, let us forget!
+
+[Illustration: (OUR WORN EYES ARE WET)]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (WHEN SHE COMES HOME)]
+
+WHEN SHE COMES HOME
+
+
+When she comes home again! A thousand ways
+  I fashion, to myself, the tenderness
+  Of my glad welcome: I shall tremble--yes;
+And touch her, as when first in the old days
+I touched her girlish hand, nor dared upraise
+  Mine eyes, such was my faint heart's sweet distress.
+  Then silence: And the perfume of her dress:
+The room will sway a little, and a haze
+  Cloy eyesight--soulsight, even--for a space:
+And tears--yes; and the ache here in the throat,
+  To know that I so ill deserve the place
+Her arms make for me; and the sobbing note
+  I stay with kisses, ere the tearful face
+  Again is hidden in the old embrace.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (LEONAINIE--TITLE)]
+
+LEONAINIE
+
+
+Leonainie--Angels named her;
+  And they took the light
+Of the laughing stars and framed her
+  In a smile of white;
+    And they made her hair of gloomy
+    Midnight, and her eyes of bloomy
+    Moonshine, and they brought her to me
+  In the solemn night.---
+
+In a solemn night of summer,
+  When my heart of gloom
+Blossomed up to greet the comer
+  Like a rose in bloom;
+    All forebodings that distressed me
+    I forgot as Joy caressed me--
+    (_Lying_ Joy! that caught and pressed me
+  In the arms of doom!)
+
+Only spake the little lisper
+  In the Angel-tongue;
+Yet I, listening, heard her whisper--
+  "Songs are only sung
+    Here below that they may grieve you--
+    Tales but told you to deceive you,--
+    So must Leonainie leave you
+  While her love is young."
+
+Then God smiled and it was morning.
+  Matchless and supreme
+Heaven's glory seemed adorning
+  Earth with its esteem:
+    Every heart but mine seemed gifted
+    With the voice of prayer, and lifted
+    Where my Leonainie drifted
+  From me like a dream.
+
+[Illustration: (LEONAINIE--TAILPIECE)]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (HER WAITING FACE)]
+
+HER WAITING FACE
+
+
+                         In some strange place
+Of long-lost lands he finds her waiting face--
+Comes marveling upon it, unaware,
+Set moonwise in the midnight of her hair.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (THE OLD YEAR AND THE NEW--TITLE)]
+
+THE OLD YEAR AND THE NEW
+
+
+I
+
+As one in sorrow looks upon
+  The dead face of a loyal friend,
+By the dim light of New Year's dawn
+  I saw the Old Year end.
+
+Upon the pallid features lay
+  The dear old smile--so warm and bright
+Ere thus its cheer had died away
+  In ashes of delight.
+
+The hands that I had learned to love
+  With strength of passion half divine,
+Were folded now, all heedless of
+  The emptiness of mine.
+
+[Illustration: (I SAW THE OLD YEAR END)]
+
+The eyes that once had shed their bright
+  Sweet looks like sunshine, now were dull,
+And ever lidded from the light
+  That made them beautiful.
+
+
+II
+
+The chimes of bells were in the air,
+  And sounds of mirth in hall and street,
+With pealing laughter everywhere
+  And throb of dancing feet:
+
+The mirth and the convivial din
+  Of revelers in wanton glee,
+With tunes of harp and violin
+  In tangled harmony.
+
+But with a sense of nameless dread,
+  I turned me, from the merry face
+Of this newcomer, to my dead;
+  And, kneeling there a space,
+
+I sobbed aloud, all tearfully:--
+  By this dear face so fixed and cold,
+O Lord, let not this New Year be
+  As happy as the old!
+
+
+
+
+THEIR SWEET SORROW
+
+
+They meet to say farewell: Their way
+Of saying this is hard to say.--
+  He holds her hand an instant, wholly
+  Distressed--and she unclasps it slowly.
+
+He bends _his_ gaze evasively
+Over the printed page that she
+  Recurs to, with a new-moon shoulder
+  Glimpsed from the lace-mists that enfold her.
+
+The clock, beneath its crystal cup,
+Discreetly clicks--"_Quick! Act! Speak up!_"
+  A tension circles both her slender
+  Wrists--and her raised eyes flash in splendor.
+
+Even as he feels his dazzled own.--
+Then, blindingly, round either thrown,
+  They feel a stress of arms that ever
+  Strain tremblingly--and "_Never! Never!_"
+
+Is whispered brokenly, with half
+A sob, like a belated laugh,--
+  While cloyingly their blurred kiss closes,
+  Sweet as the dew's lip to the rose's.
+
+[Illustration: (THEIR SWEET SORROW)]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (JUDITH)]
+
+JUDITH
+
+
+O her eyes are amber-fine--
+Dark and deep as wells of wine,
+While her smile is like the noon
+Splendor of a day of June.
+If she sorrow--lo! her face
+It is like a flowery space
+In bright meadows, overlaid
+With light clouds and lulled with shade.
+If she laugh--it is the trill
+Of the wayward whippoorwill
+Over upland pastures, heard
+Echoed by the mocking-bird
+In dim thickets dense with bloom
+And blurred cloyings of perfume.
+If she sigh--a zephyr swells
+Over odorous asphodels
+And wan lilies in lush plots
+Of moon-drown'd forget-me-nots.
+Then, the soft touch of her hand--
+Takes all breath to understand
+What to liken it thereto!--
+Never roseleaf rinsed with dew
+Might slip soother-suave than slips
+Her slow palm, the while her lips
+Swoon through mine, with kiss on kiss
+Sweet as heated honey is.
+
+[Illustration: (O, HER EYES ARE AMBER-FINE)]
+
+
+
+
+HE AND I
+
+
+Just drifting on together--
+        He and I--
+As through the balmy weather
+        Of July
+  Drift two thistle-tufts imbedded
+  Each in each--by zephyrs wedded--
+  Touring upward, giddy-headed,
+        For the sky.
+
+And, veering up and onward,
+        Do we seem
+Forever drifting dawnward
+        In a dream,
+  Where we meet song-birds that know us,
+  And the winds their kisses blow us,
+  While the years flow far below us
+        Like a stream.
+
+And we are happy--very--
+        He and I--
+Aye, even glad and merry
+        Though on high
+  The heavens are sometimes shrouded
+  By the midnight storm, and clouded
+  Till the pallid moon is crowded
+        From the sky.
+
+My spirit ne'er expresses
+        Any choice
+But to clothe him with caresses
+        And rejoice;
+  And as he laughs, it is in
+  Such a tone the moonbeams glisten
+  And the stars come out to listen
+        To his voice.
+
+And so, whate'er the weather,
+        He and I,--
+With our lives linked thus together,
+        Float and fly
+  As two thistle-tufts imbedded
+  Each in each--by zephyrs wedded--
+  Touring upward, giddy-headed,
+        For the sky.
+
+[Illustration: (HE AND I)]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (THE LOST PATH--TITLE)]
+
+THE LOST PATH
+
+
+Alone they walked--their fingers knit together,
+  And swaying listlessly as might a swing
+Wherein Dan Cupid dangled in the weather
+  Of some sun-flooded afternoon of Spring.
+
+Within the clover-fields the tickled cricket
+  Laughed lightly as they loitered down the lane,
+And from the covert of the hazel-thicket
+  The squirrel peeped and laughed at them again.
+
+The bumble-bee that tipped the lily-vases
+  Along the road-side in the shadows dim,
+Went following the blossoms of their faces
+  As though their sweets must needs be shared with him.
+
+Between the pasture bars the wondering cattle
+  Stared wistfully, and from their mellow bells
+Shook out a welcoming whose dreamy rattle
+  Fell swooningly away in faint farewells.
+
+And though at last the gloom of night fell o'er them
+  And folded all the landscape from their eyes,
+They only know the dusky path before them
+  Was leading safely on to Paradise.
+
+[Illustration: (THE LOST PATH)]
+
+
+
+
+MY BRIDE THAT IS TO BE
+
+
+O soul of mine, look out and see
+  My bride, my bride that is to be!
+  Reach out with mad, impatient hands,
+And draw aside futurity
+As one might draw a veil aside--
+  And so unveil her where she stands
+Madonna-like and glorified--
+  The queen of undiscovered lands
+Of love, to where she beckons me--
+My bride--my bride that is to be.
+
+The shadow of a willow-tree
+  That wavers on a garden-wall
+  In summertime may never fall
+In attitude as gracefully
+As my fair bride that is to be;--
+  Nor ever Autumn's leaves of brown
+As lightly flutter to the lawn
+As fall her fairy-feet upon
+  The path of love she loiters down.--
+O'er drops of dew she walks, and yet
+Not one may stain her sandal wet--
+Aye, she might _dance_ upon the way
+Nor crush a single drop to spray,
+So airy-like she seems to me,--
+My bride, my bride that is to be.
+
+[Illustration: (MADONNA-LIKE AND GLORIFIED)]
+
+I know not if her eyes are light
+As summer skies or dark as night,--
+I only know that they are dim
+  With mystery: In vain I peer
+  To make their hidden meaning clear,
+  While o'er their surface, like a tear
+That ripples to the silken brim,
+A look of longing seems to swim
+  All worn and wearylike to me;
+And then, as suddenly, my sight
+Is blinded with a smile so bright,
+  Through folded lids I still may see
+  My bride, my bride that is to be.
+
+Her face is like a night of June
+Upon whose brow the crescent-moon
+Hangs pendant in a diadem
+Of stars, with envy lighting them.--
+  And, like a wild cascade, her hair
+Floods neck and shoulder, arm and wrist,
+Till only through a gleaming mist
+  I seem to see a siren there,
+With lips of love and melody
+  And open arms and heaving breast
+  Wherein I fling myself to rest,
+The while my heart cries hopelessly
+For my fair bride that is to be....
+
+Nay, foolish heart and blinded eyes!
+My bride hath need of no disguise.--
+  But, rather, let her come to me
+In such a form as bent above
+  My pillow when in infancy
+I knew not anything but love.--
+O let her come from out the lands
+  Of Womanhood--not fairy isles,--
+And let her come with Woman's hands
+  And Woman's eyes of tears and smiles,--
+With Woman's hopefulness and grace
+Of patience lighting up her face:
+And let her diadem be wrought
+Of kindly deed and prayerful thought,
+That ever over all distress
+May beam the light of cheerfulness.--
+And let her feet be brave to fare
+The labyrinths of doubt and care,
+That, following, my own may find
+The path to Heaven God designed.--
+O let her come like this to me--
+My bride--my bride that is to be.
+
+
+
+
+HOW IT HAPPENED
+
+
+I got to thinkin' of her--both her parents dead and gone--
+And all her sisters married off, and none but her and John
+A-livin' all alone there in that lonesome sort o' way,
+And him a blame old bachelor, confirmder ev'ry day!
+I'd knowed 'em all from childern, and their daddy from the time
+He settled in the neighberhood, and hadn't airy a dime
+Er dollar, when he married, fer to start housekeepin' on!--
+So I got to thinkin' of her--both her parents dead and gone!
+
+I got to thinkin' of her; and a-wundern what she done
+That all her sisters kep' a-gittin' married, one by one,
+And her without no chances--and the best girl of the pack--
+An old maid, with her hands, you might say, tied behind her back!
+And Mother, too, afore she died, she ust to jes' take on,
+When none of 'em was left, you know, but Evaline and John,
+And jes' declare to goodness 'at the young men must be bline
+To not see what a wife they'd git if they got Evaline!
+
+I got to thinkin' of her; in my great affliction she
+Was sich a comfert to us, and so kind and neighberly,--
+She'd come, and leave her housework, fer to he'p out little Jane,
+And talk of _her own_ mother 'at she'd never see again--
+Maybe sometimes cry together--though, fer the most part she
+Would have the child so riconciled and happy-like 'at we
+Felt lonesomer 'n ever when she'd put her bonnet on
+And say she'd railly haf to be a-gittin' back to John!
+
+I got to thinkin' of her, as I say,--and more and more
+I'd think of her dependence, and the burdens 'at she bore,--
+Her parents both a-bein' dead, and all her sisters gone
+And married off, and her a-livin' there alone with John--
+You might say jes' a-toilin' and a-slavin' out her life
+Fer a man 'at hadn't pride enough to git hisse'f a wife--
+'Less some one married _Evaline_ and packed her off some day!--
+So I got to thinkin' of her--and it happened thataway.
+
+[Illustration: (HOW IT HAPPENED)]
+
+
+
+
+WHEN MY DREAMS COME TRUE
+
+
+I
+
+When my dreams come true--when my dreams come true--
+Shall I lean from out my casement, in the starlight and the dew,
+To listen--smile and listen to the tinkle of the strings
+Of the sweet guitar my lover's fingers fondle, as he sings?
+And as the nude moon slowly, slowly shoulders into view,
+Shall I vanish from his vision--when my dreams come true?
+
+When my dreams come true--shall the simple gown I wear
+Be changed to softest satin, and my maiden-braided hair
+Be raveled into flossy mists of rarest, fairest gold,
+To be minted into kisses, more than any heart can hold?--
+Or "the summer of my tresses" shall my lover liken to
+"The fervor of his passion"--when my dreams come true?
+
+
+II
+
+When my dreams come true--I shall bide among the sheaves
+Of happy harvest meadows; and the grasses and the leaves
+Shall lift and lean between me and the splendor of the sun,
+Till the moon swoons into twilight, and the gleaners' work is done--
+Save that yet an arm shall bind me, even as the reapers do
+The meanest sheaf of harvest--when my dreams come true.
+
+When my dreams come true! when my dreams come true!
+True love in all simplicity is fresh and pure as dew;--
+The blossom in the blackest mold is kindlier to the eye
+Than any lily born of pride that looms against the sky:
+And so it is I know my heart will gladly welcome you,
+My lowliest of lovers, when my dreams come true.
+
+[Illustration: (WHEN MY DREAMS COME TRUE)]
+
+
+
+
+NOTHIN' TO SAY
+
+
+Nothin' to say, my daughter! Nothin' at all to say!
+Gyrls that's in love, I've noticed, ginerly has their way!
+Yer mother did, afore you, when her folks objected to me--
+Yit here I am, and here you air; and yer mother--where is she?
+
+You look lots like yer mother: Purty much same in size;
+And about the same complected; and favor about the eyes:
+Like her, too, about _livin_' here,--because _she_ couldn't stay:
+It'll 'most seem like you was dead--like her!--But I hain't got nothin' to say!
+
+She left you her little Bible--writ yer name acrost the page--
+And left her ear bobs fer you, ef ever you come of age.
+I've allus kep' 'em and gyuarded 'em, but ef yer goin' away--
+Nothin' to say, my daughter! Nothin' at all to say!
+
+You don't rikollect her, I reckon? No; you wasn't a year old then!
+And now yer--how old _air_ you? W'y, child, not "_twenty_!" When?
+And yer nex' birthday's in Aprile? and you want to git married that day?
+... I wisht yer mother was livin'!--But--I hain't got nothin' to say!
+
+Twenty year! and as good a gyrl as parent ever found!
+There's a straw ketched onto yer dress there--I'll bresh it off--turn round.
+(Her mother was jes' twenty when us two run away!)
+Nothin' to say, my daughter! Nothin' at all to say!
+
+[Illustration: (NOTHIN' TO SAY)]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (IKE WALTON'S PRAYER--TITLE)]
+
+IKE WALTON'S PRAYER
+
+
+I crave, dear Lord,
+No boundless hoard
+Of gold and gear,
+  Nor jewels fine,
+  Nor lands, nor kine,
+Nor treasure-heaps of anything--
+  Let but a little hut be mine
+  Where at the hearthstone I may hear
+      The cricket sing,
+    And have the shine
+  Of one glad woman's eyes to make,
+  For my poor sake,
+    Our simple home a place divine;--
+Just the wee cot--the cricket's chirr--
+Love, and the smiling face of her.
+
+I pray not for
+Great riches, nor
+  For vast estates, and castle-halls,--
+  Give me to hear the bare footfalls
+    Of children o'er
+    An oaken floor,
+  New-rinsed with sunshine, or bespread
+  With but the tiny coverlet
+  And pillow for the baby's head;
+And pray Thou, may
+The door stand open and the day
+  Send ever in a gentle breeze,
+  With fragrance from the locust-trees,
+    And drowsy moan of doves, and blur
+  Of robin-chirps, and drone of bees,
+    With afterhushes of the stir
+  Of intermingling sounds, and then
+    The good-wife and the smile of her
+  Filling the silences again--
+      The cricket's call,
+        And the wee cot,
+      Dear Lord of all,
+        Deny me not!
+
+I pray not that
+Men tremble at
+  My power of place
+    And lordly sway,--
+I only pray for simple grace
+To look my neighbor in the face
+  Full honestly from day to day--
+Yield me his horny palm to hold,
+      And I'll not pray
+        For gold;--
+The tanned face, garlanded with mirth,
+It hath the kingliest smile on earth--
+The swart brow, diamonded with sweat,
+Hath never need of coronet.
+      And so I reach,
+        Dear Lord, to Thee,
+      And do beseech
+        Thou givest me
+The wee cot, and the cricket's chirr,
+Love, and the glad sweet face of her.
+
+[Illustration: (IKE WALTON'S PRAYER--TAILPIECE)]
+
+
+
+
+ILLILEO
+
+
+Illileo, the moonlight seemed lost across the vales--
+The stars but strewed the azure as an armor's scattered scales;
+The airs of night were quiet as the breath of silken sails;
+And all your words were sweeter than the notes of nightingales.
+
+Illileo Legardi, in the garden there alone,
+With your figure carved of fervor, as the Psyche carved of stone,
+There came to me no murmur of the fountain's undertone
+So mystically, musically mellow as your own.
+
+You whispered low, Illileo--so low the leaves were mute,
+And the echoes faltered breathless in your voice's vain pursuit;
+And there died the distant dalliance of the serenader's lute:
+And I held you in my bosom as the husk may hold the fruit.
+
+Illileo, I listened. I believed you. In my bliss,
+What were all the worlds above me since I found you thus in this?--
+Let them reeling reach to win me--even Heaven I would miss,
+Grasping earthward!--I would cling here, though I clung by just a kiss!
+
+And blossoms should grow odorless--and lilies all aghast--
+And I said the stars should slacken in their paces through the vast,
+Ere yet my loyalty should fail enduring to the last.--
+So vowed I. It is written. It is changeless as the past.
+
+Illileo Legardi, in the shade your palace throws
+Like a cowl about the singer at your gilded porticos,
+A moan goes with the music that may vex the high repose
+Of a heart that fades and crumbles as the crimson of a rose.
+
+[Illustration: (ILLILEO)]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (WIFE-BLESSED, THE)]
+
+THE WIFE-BLESSED
+
+
+I
+
+In youth he wrought, with eyes ablur,
+  Lorn-faced and long of hair--
+In youth--in youth he painted her
+  A sister of the air--
+Could clasp her not, but felt the stir
+  Of pinions everywhere.
+
+
+II
+
+She lured his gaze, in braver days,
+  And tranced him sirenwise;
+And he did paint her, through a haze
+  Of sullen paradise,
+With scars of kisses on her face
+  And embers in her eyes.
+
+
+III
+
+And now--nor dream nor wild conceit--
+  Though faltering, as before--
+Through tears he paints her, as is meet,
+  Tracing the dear face o'er
+With lilied patience meek and sweet
+  As Mother Mary wore.
+
+
+
+
+MY MARY
+
+
+My Mary, O my Mary!
+  The simmer-skies are blue;
+The dawnin' brings the dazzle,
+  An' the gloamin' brings the dew,--
+The mirk o' nicht the glory
+  O' the moon, an' kindles, too,
+The stars that shift aboon the lift.--
+  But nae thing brings me you!
+
+Where is it, O my Mary,
+  Ye are biding a' the while?
+I ha' wended by your window--
+  I ha' waited by the stile,
+An' up an' down the river
+  I ha' won for mony a mile,
+Yet never found, adrift or drown'd,
+  Your lang-belated smile.
+
+Is it forgot, my Mary,
+  How glad we used to be?--
+The simmer-time when bonny bloomed
+  The auld trysting-tree,--
+How there I carved the name for you,
+  An' you the name for me;
+An' the gloamin' kenned it only
+  When we kissed sae tenderly.
+
+Speek ance to me, my Mary!--
+  But whisper in my ear
+As light as ony sleeper's breath,
+  An' a' my soul will hear;
+My heart shall stap its beating
+  An' the soughing atmosphere
+Be hushed the while I leaning smile
+  An' listen to you, dear!
+
+My Mary, O my Mary!
+  The blossoms bring the bees;
+The sunshine brings the blossoms,
+  An' the leaves on a' the trees;
+The simmer brings the sunshine
+  An' the fragrance o' the breeze,--
+But O wi'out you, Mary,
+  I care nae thing for these!
+
+[Illustration: (THE AULD TRYSTING-TREE)]
+
+We were sae happy, Mary!
+  O think how ance we said--
+Wad ane o' us gae fickle,
+  Or ane o' us lie dead,--
+To feel anither's kisses
+  We wad feign the auld instead,
+An' ken the ither's footsteps
+  In the green grass owerhead.
+
+My Mary, O my Mary!
+  Are ye daughter o' the air,
+That ye vanish aye before me
+  As I follow everywhere?--
+Or is it ye are only
+  But a mortal, wan wi' care?--
+Syne I search through a' the kirkyird
+  An' I dinna find ye there!
+
+[Illustration: (MY MARY--TAILPIECE)]
+
+
+
+
+HOME AT NIGHT
+
+
+When chirping crickets fainter cry,
+And pale stars blossom in the sky,
+And twilight's gloom has dimmed the bloom
+And blurred the butterfly:
+
+When locust-blossoms fleck the walk,
+And up the tiger-lily stalk
+The glow-worm crawls and clings and falls
+And glimmers down the garden-walls:
+
+When buzzing things, with double wings
+Of crisp and raspish flutterings,
+Go whizzing by so very nigh
+One thinks of fangs and stings:--
+
+O then, within, is stilled the din
+Of crib she rocks the baby in,
+And heart and gate and latch's weight
+Are lifted--and the lips of Kate.
+
+[Illustration: (HOME AT NIGHT)]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (WHEN LIDE MARRIED _Him_--TITLE)]
+
+WHEN LIDE MARRIED _HIM_
+
+
+When Lide married _him_--w'y, she had to jes dee-fy
+The whole poppilation!--But she never bat' an eye!
+Her parents begged, and _threatened_--she must give him up--that _he_
+Wuz jes "a common drunkard!"--And he _wuz_, appearantly.--
+          Swore they'd chase him off the place
+          Ef he ever showed his face--
+Long after she'd _eloped_ with him and _married_ him fer shore!--
+When Lide married _him_, it wuz "_Katy, bar the door!_"
+
+When Lide married _him_--Well! she had to go and be
+A _hired girl_ in town somewheres--while he tromped round to see
+What _he_ could git that _he_ could do,--you might say, jes sawed wood
+From door to door!--that's what he done--'cause that wuz best he could!
+          And the strangest thing, i jing!
+          Wuz, he didn't _drink_ a thing,--
+But jes got down to bizness, like he someway _wanted_ to,
+When Lide married him, like they warned her _not_ to do!
+
+When Lide married _him_--er, ruther, _had_ ben married
+A little up'ards of a year--some feller come and carried
+That _hired girl_ away with him--a ruther _stylish_ feller
+In a bran-new green spring-wagon, with the wheels striped red and yeller:
+          And he whispered, as they driv
+          Tords the country, "_Now we'll live!_"--
+And _somepin' else_ she _laughed_ to hear, though both her eyes wuz dim,
+'Bout "_trustin' Love and Heav'n above_, sence Lide married _him_!"
+
+[Illustration: (WHEN LIDE MARRIED _Him_--TAILPIECE)]
+
+
+
+
+HER HAIR
+
+
+The beauty of her hair bewilders me--
+  Pouring adown the brow, its cloven tide
+  Swirling about the ears on either side
+And storming around the neck tumultuously:
+Or like the lights of old antiquity
+  Through mullioned windows, in cathedrals wide,
+  Spilled moltenly o'er figures deified
+In chastest marble, nude of drapery.
+And so I love it.--Either unconfined;
+  Or plaited in close braidings manifold;
+Or smoothly drawn; or indolently twined
+  In careless knots whose coilings come unrolled
+At any lightest kiss; or by the wind
+  Whipped out in flossy ravelings of gold.
+
+[Illustration: (HER HAIR)]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (LAST NIGHT AND THIS--TITLE)]
+
+LAST NIGHT--AND THIS
+
+
+Last night--how deep the darkness was!
+And well I knew its depths, because
+I waded it from shore to shore,
+Thinking to reach the light no more.
+
+She would not even touch my hand.--
+The winds rose and the cedars fanned
+The moon out, and the stars fled back
+In heaven and hid--and all was black!
+
+But ah! To-night a summons came,
+Signed with a teardrop for a name,--
+For as I wondering kissed it, lo,
+A line beneath it told me so.
+
+And _now_ the moon hangs over me
+A disk of dazzling brilliancy,
+And every star-tip stabs my sight
+With splintered glitterings of light!
+
+[Illustration: (LAST NIGHT AND THIS--TAILPIECE)]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (A DISCOURAGING MODEL--TITLE)]
+
+A DISCOURAGING MODEL
+
+
+Just the airiest, fairiest slip of a thing,
+With a Gainsborough hat, like a butterfly's wing,
+Tilted up at one side with the jauntiest air,
+And a knot of red roses sown in under there
+    Where the shadows are lost in her hair.
+
+Then a cameo face, carven in on a ground
+Of that shadowy hair where the roses are wound;
+And the gleam of a smile O as fair and as faint
+And as sweet as the masters of old used to paint
+    Round the lips of their favorite saint!
+
+And that lace at her throat--and the fluttering hands
+Snowing there, with a grace that no art understands
+The flakes of their touches--first fluttering at
+The bow--then the roses--the hair--and then that
+    Little tilt of the Gainsborough hat.
+
+What artist on earth, with a model like this,
+Holding not on his palette the tint of a kiss,
+Nor a pigment to hint of the hue of her hair,
+Nor the gold of her smile--O what artist could dare
+    To expect a result half so fair?
+
+[Illustration: (A CAMEO FACE)]
+
+
+
+
+SUSPENSE
+
+
+A woman's figure, on a ground of night
+  Inlaid with sallow stars that dimly stare
+  Down in the lonesome eyes, uplifted there
+As in vague hope some alien lance of light
+Might pierce their woe. The tears that blind her sight--
+   The salt and bitter blood of her despair--
+   Her hands toss back through torrents of her hair
+And grip toward God with anguish infinite.
+   And O the carven mouth, with all its great
+Intensity of longing frozen fast
+   In such a smile as well may designate
+The slowly murdered heart, that, to the last
+   Conceals each newer wound, and back at Fate
+Throbs Love's eternal lie--"Lo, I can wait!"
+
+[Illustration: (SUSPENSE)]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (TOM VAN ARDEN--TITLE)]
+
+TOM VAN ARDEN
+
+
+Tom Van Arden, my old friend,
+  Our warm fellowship is one
+Far too old to comprehend
+  Where its bond was first begun:
+    Mirage-like before my gaze
+    Gleams a land of other days,
+    Where two truant boys, astray,
+    Dream their lazy lives away.
+
+There's a vision, in the guise
+  Of Midsummer, where the Past
+Like a weary beggar lies
+  In the shadow Time has cast;
+    And as blends the bloom of trees
+    With the drowsy hum of bees,
+    Fragrant thoughts and murmurs blend,
+    Tom Van Arden, my old friend.
+
+Tom Van Arden, my old friend,
+  All the pleasures we have known
+Thrill me now as I extend
+  This old hand and grasp your own--
+    Feeling, in the rude caress,
+    All affection's tenderness;
+    Feeling, though the touch be rough,
+    Our old souls are soft enough.
+
+So we'll make a mellow hour;
+  Fill your pipe, and taste the wine--
+Warp your face, if it be sour,
+  I can spare a smile from mine;
+    If it sharpen up your wit,
+    Let me feel the edge of it--
+    I have eager ears to lend,
+    Tom Van Arden, my old friend.
+
+[Illustration: (TOM VAN ARDEN)]
+
+Tom Van Arden, my old friend,
+  Are we "lucky dogs," indeed?
+Are we all that we pretend
+  In the jolly life we lead?--
+    Bachelors, we must confess
+    Boast of "single blessedness"
+    To the world, but not alone--
+    Man's best sorrow is his own.
+
+And the saddest truth is this,--
+  Life to us has never proved
+What we tasted in the kiss
+  Of the women we have loved:
+    Vainly we congratulate
+    Our escape from such a fate
+    As their lying lips could send,
+    Tom Van Arden, my old friend!
+
+Tom Van Arden, my old friend,
+  Hearts, like fruit upon the stem,
+Ripen sweetest, I contend,
+  As the frost falls over them:
+    Your regard for me to-day
+    Makes November taste of May,
+    And through every vein of rhyme
+    Pours the blood of summertime.
+
+When our souls are cramped with youth
+  Happiness seems far away
+In the future, while, in truth,
+  We looked back on it to-day
+    Through our tears, nor dare to boast,--
+    "Better to have loved and lost!"
+    Broken hearts are hard to mend,
+    Tom Van Arden, my old friend.
+
+Tom Van Arden, my old friend,
+  I grow prosy, and you tire;
+Fill the glasses while I bend
+  To prod up the failing fire....
+    You are restless:--I presume
+    There's a dampness in the room.--
+    Much of warmth our nature begs,
+    With rheumatics in our legs!...
+
+Humph! the legs we used to fling
+  Limber-jointed in the dance,
+When we heard the fiddle ring
+  Up the curtain of Romance,
+    And in crowded public halls
+    Played with hearts like jugglers'-balls.--
+    _Feats of mountebanks, depend_!--
+    Tom Van Arden, my old friend.
+
+Tom Van Arden, my old friend,
+  Pardon, then, this theme of mine:
+While the fire-light leaps to lend
+  Higher color to the wine,--
+    I propose a health to those
+    Who have _homes_, and home's repose,
+    Wife and child-love without end!
+   ... Tom Van Arden, my old friend.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (TO HEAR HER SING)]
+
+TO HEAR HER SING
+
+
+To hear her sing--to hear her sing--
+It is to hear the birds of Spring
+In dewy groves on blooming sprays
+Pour out their blithest roundelays.
+
+It is to hear the robin trill
+At morning, or the whippoorwill
+At dusk, when stars are blossoming
+To hear her sing--to hear her sing!
+
+To hear her sing--it is to hear
+The laugh of childhood ringing clear
+In woody path or grassy lane
+Our feet may never fare again.
+
+Faint, far away as Memory dwells,
+It is to hear the village bells
+At twilight, as the truant hears
+Them, hastening home, with smiles and tears.
+
+Such joy it is to hear her sing,
+We fall in love with everything--
+The simple things of every day
+Grow lovelier than words can say.
+
+The idle brooks that purl across
+The gleaming pebbles and the moss,
+We love no less than classic streams--
+The Rhines and Arnos of our dreams.
+
+To hear her sing--with folded eyes,
+It is, beneath Venetian skies,
+To hear the gondoliers' refrain,
+Or troubadours of sunny Spain.--
+
+To hear the bulbul's voice that shook
+The throat that trilled for Lalla Rookh:
+What wonder we in homage bring
+Our hearts to her--to hear her sing!
+
+
+
+
+THE RIVAL
+
+
+I so loved once, when Death came by I hid
+  Away my face,
+And all my sweetheart's tresses she undid
+  To make my hiding-place.
+
+The dread shade passed me thus unheeding; and
+  I turned me then
+To calm my love--kiss down her shielding hand
+  And comfort her again.
+
+And lo! she answered not: And she did sit
+  All fixedly,
+With her fair face and the sweet smile of it,
+  In love with Death, not me.
+
+[Illustration: (THE RIVAL)]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (A VARIATION--TITLE)]
+
+A VARIATION
+
+
+I am tired of this!
+  Nothing else but loving!
+Nothing else but kiss and kiss,
+  Coo, and turtle-doving!
+    Can't you change the order some?
+    Hate me just a little--come!
+
+Lay aside your "dears,"
+  "Darlings," "kings," and "princes!"--
+Call me knave, and dry your tears--
+  Nothing in me winces,--
+    Call me something low and base--
+    Something that will suit the case!
+
+Wish I had your eyes
+  And their drooping lashes!
+I would dry their teary lies
+  Up with lightning-flashes--
+    Make your sobbing lips unsheathe
+    All the glitter of your teeth!
+
+Can't you lift one word--
+  With some pang of laughter--
+Louder than the drowsy bird
+  Crooning 'neath the rafter?
+    Just one bitter word, to shriek
+    Madly at me as I speak!
+
+How I hate the fair
+  Beauty of your forehead!
+How I hate your fragrant hair!
+  How I hate the torrid
+    Touches of your splendid lips,
+    And the kiss that drips and drips!
+
+Ah, you pale at last!
+  And your face is lifted
+Like a white sail to the blast,
+  And your hands are shifted
+    Into fists: and, towering thus,
+    You are simply glorious!
+
+Now before me looms
+  Something more than human;
+Something more than beauty blooms
+  In the wrath of Woman--
+    Something to bow down before
+    Reverently and adore.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (WHERE SHALL WE LAND?--TITLE)]
+
+WHERE SHALL WE LAND?
+
+    "Where shall we land you, sweet?"--Swinburne.
+
+
+All listlessly we float
+Out seaward in the boat
+        That beareth Love.
+Our sails of purest snow
+Bend to the blue below
+    And to the blue above.
+        Where shall we land?
+
+We drift upon a tide
+Shoreless on every side,
+    Save where the eye
+Of Fancy sweeps far lands
+Shelved slopingly with sands
+    Of gold and porphyry.
+        Where shall we land?
+
+The fairy isles we see,
+Loom up so mistily--
+    So vaguely fair,
+We do not care to break
+Fresh bubbles in our wake
+    To bend our course for there.
+        Where shall we land?
+
+The warm winds of the deep
+Have lulled our sails to sleep,
+    And so we glide
+Careless of wave or wind,
+Or change of any kind,
+    Or turn of any tide.
+        Where shall we land?
+
+We droop our dreamy eyes
+Where our reflection lies
+    Steeped in the sea,
+And, in an endless fit
+Of languor, smile on it
+    And its sweet mimicry.
+        Where shall we land?
+
+"Where shall we land?" God's grace!
+I know not any place
+    So fair as this--
+Swung here between the blue
+Of sea and sky, with you
+    To ask me, with a kiss,
+        "Where shall we land?"
+
+[Illustration: (WHERE SHALL WE LAND?--TAILPIECE)]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (THE TOUCHES OF HER HANDS--TITLE)]
+
+THE TOUCHES OF HER HANDS
+
+
+The touches of her hands are like the fall
+  Of velvet snowflakes; like the touch of down
+The peach just brushes 'gainst the garden wall;
+The flossy fondlings of the thistle-wisp
+  Caught in the crinkle of a leaf of brown
+The blighting frost hath turned from green to crisp.
+
+Soft as the falling of the dusk at night,
+The touches of her hands, and the delight--
+  The touches of her hands!
+The touches of her hands are like the dew
+That falls so softly down no one e'er knew
+The touch thereof save lovers like to one
+Astray in lights where ranged Endymion.
+
+O rarely soft, the touches of her hands,
+As drowsy zephyrs in enchanted lands;
+  Or pulse of dying fay; or fairy sighs;
+Or--in between the midnight and the dawn,
+When long unrest and tears and fears are gone--
+  Sleep, smoothing down the lids of weary eyes.
+
+[Illustration: (THE TOUCHES OF HER HANDS--TAILPIECE)]
+
+[Illustration: (O RARELY SOFT, THE TOUCHES OF HER HANDS)]
+
+
+
+
+A SONG OF LONG AGO
+
+
+A song of Long Ago:
+Sing it lightly--sing it low--
+Sing it softly--like the lisping of the lips we used to know
+When our baby-laughter spilled
+From the glad hearts ever filled
+With music blithe as robin ever trilled!
+
+Let the fragrant summer-breeze,
+And the leaves of locust-trees,
+And the apple-buds and blossoms, and the wings of honey-bees,
+All palpitate with glee,
+Till the happy harmony
+Brings back each childish joy to you and me.
+
+Let the eyes of fancy turn
+Where the tumbled pippins burn
+Like embers in the orchard's lap of tangled grass and fern,--
+There let the old path wind
+In and out and on behind
+The cider-press that chuckles as we grind.
+
+[Illustration: (A SONG OF LONG AGO)]
+
+Blend in the song the moan
+Of the dove that grieves alone,
+And the wild whir of the locust, and the bumble's drowsy drone;
+And the low of cows that call
+Through the pasture-bars when all
+The landscape fades away at evenfall.
+
+Then, far away and clear,
+Through the dusky atmosphere,
+Let the wailing of the kildee be the only sound we hear:
+O sad and sweet and low
+As the memory may know
+Is the glad-pathetic song of Long Ago!
+
+
+
+
+WHEN AGE COMES ON
+
+
+When Age comes on!--
+The deepening dusk is where the dawn
+  Once glittered splendid, and the dew
+In honey-drips, from red rose-lips
+  Was kissed away by me and you.--
+And now across the frosty lawn
+Black foot-prints trail, and Age comes on--
+          And Age comes on!
+  And biting wild-winds whistle through
+Our tattered hopes--and Age comes on!
+
+When Age comes on!--
+O tide of raptures, long withdrawn,
+  Flow back in summer-floods, and fling
+Here at our feet our childhood sweet,
+  And all the songs we used to sing!...
+Old loves, old friends--all dead and gone--
+Our old faith lost--and Age comes on--
+          And Age comes on!
+  Poor hearts! have we not anything
+But longings left when Age comes on!
+
+[Illustration: (WHEN AGE COMES ON)]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (FARMER WHIPPLE--BACHELOR--TITLE)]
+
+FARMER WHIPPLE--BACHELOR
+
+
+It's a mystery to see me--a man o' fifty-four,
+Who's lived a cross old bachelor fer thirty year' and  more--
+A-lookin' glad and smilin'! And they's none o' you can say
+That you can guess the reason why I feel so good to-day!
+
+I must tell you all about it! But I'll have to deviate
+A little in beginnin', so's to set the matter straight
+As to how it comes to happen that I never took a wife--
+Kind o' "crawfish" from the Present to the Springtime of my life!
+
+I was brought up in the country: Of a family of five--
+Three brothers and a sister--I'm the only one alive,--
+Fer they all died little babies; and 'twas one o' Mother's ways,
+You know, to want a daughter; so she took a girl to raise.
+
+The sweetest little thing she was, with rosy cheeks, and fat--
+We was little chunks o' shavers then about as high as that!
+But someway we sort o' _suited_-like! and Mother she'd declare
+She never laid her eyes on a more lovin' pair
+
+Than _we_ was! So we growed up side by side fer thirteen year',
+And every hour of it she growed to me more dear!--
+W'y, even Father's dyin', as he did, I do believe
+Warn't more affectin' to me than it was to see her grieve!
+
+I was then a lad o' twenty; and I felt a flash o' pride
+In thinkin' all depended on _me_ now to pervide
+Fer Mother and fer Mary; and I went about the place
+With sleeves rolled up--and workin', with a mighty smilin' face.--
+
+Fer _sompin' else_ was workin'! but not a word I said
+Of a certain sort o' notion that was runnin' through my head,--
+"Someday I'd mayby marry, and _a brother's_ love was one
+Thing--_a lover's_ was another!" was the way the notion run!
+
+I remember onc't in harvest, when the "cradle-in'" was done--
+When the harvest of my summers mounted up to twenty-one
+I was ridin' home with Mary at the closin' o' the day--
+A-chawin' straws and thinkin', in a lover's lazy way!
+
+And Mary's cheeks was burnin' like the sunset down the lane:
+I noticed she was thinkin', too, and ast her to explain.
+Well--when she turned and _kissed_ me, _with her arms around me--law!_
+I'd a bigger load o' heaven than I had a load o' straw!
+
+I don't p'tend to learnin', but I'll tell you what's a fact,
+They's a mighty truthful sayin' somers in a' almanack--
+Er _somers_--'bout "puore happiness"--perhaps some folks'll laugh
+At the idy--"only lastin' jest two seconds and a half."--
+
+But it's jest as true as preachin'!--fer that was _a sister's_ kiss,
+And a sister's lovin' confidence a-tellin' to me this:--
+"_She_ was happy, _bein' promised to the son o' farmer Brown_."--
+And my feelin's struck a pardnership with sunset and went down!
+
+I don't know _how_ I acted--I don't know _what_ I said,
+Fer my heart seemed jest a-turnin' to an ice-cold lump o' lead;
+And the hosses kindo' glimmered before me in the road.
+And the lines fell from my fingers--and that was all I knowed--
+
+Fer--well, I don't know _how_ long--They's a dim rememberence
+Of a sound o' snortin' hosses, and a stake-and-ridered fence
+A-whizzin' past, and wheat-sheaves a-dancin' in the air,
+And Mary screamin' "Murder!" and a-runnin' up to  where
+
+[Illustration: (RIDIN' HOME WITH MARY)]
+
+_I_ was layin' by the roadside, and the wagon upside down
+A-leanin' on the gate-post, with the wheels a whirlin' round!
+And I tried to raise and meet her, but I couldn't, with a vague
+Sorto' notion comin' to me that I had a broken leg.
+
+Well, the women nussed me through it; but many a time I'd sigh
+As I'd keep a-gittin' better instid o' goin' to die,
+And wonder what was left _me_ worth livin' fer below,
+When the girl I loved was married to another, don't you know!
+
+And my thoughts was as rebellious as the folks was good and kind
+When Brown and Mary married--Railly must a-been my _mind_
+Was kindo' out o' kilter!--fer I hated Brown, you see,
+Worse'n _pizen_--and the feller whittled crutches out fer _me_--
+
+And done a thousand little ac's o' kindness and respect--
+And me a-wishin' all the time that I could break his neck!
+My relief was like a mourner's when the funeral is done
+When they moved to Illinois in the Fall o' Forty-one.
+
+Then I went to work in airnest--I had nothin' much in view
+But to drown'd out rickollections--and it kep' me busy, too!
+But I slowly thrived and prospered, tel Mother used to say
+She expected yit to see me a wealthy man some day.
+
+Then I'd think how little _money_ was, compared to happiness--
+And who'd be left to use it when I died I couldn't guess!
+But I've still kep' speculatin' and a-gainin' year by year,
+Tel I'm pay-in' half the taxes in the county, mighty near!
+
+Well!--A year ago er better, a letter comes to hand
+Astin' how I'd like to dicker fer some Illinois land--
+"The feller that had owned it," it went ahead to state,
+"Had jest deceased, insolvent, leavin' chance to speculate,"--
+
+And then it closed by sayin' that I'd "better come and see."--
+I'd never been West, anyhow--a most too wild fer _me_
+I'd allus had a notion; but a lawyer here in town
+Said I'd find myself mistakened when I come to look around.
+
+So I bids good-bye to Mother, and I jumps aboard the train,
+A-thinkin' what I'd bring her when I come back home again--
+And ef she'd had an idy what the present was to be,
+I think it's more'n likely she'd a-went along with me!
+
+Cars is awful tejus ridin', fer all they go so fast!
+But finally they called out my stoppin'-place at last;
+And that night, at the tavern, I dreamp' _I_ was a train
+O' cars, and _skeered_ at sompin', runnin' down a country lane!
+
+Well, in the mornin' airly--after huntin' up the man--
+The lawyer who was wantin' to swap the piece o' land--
+We started fer the country; and I ast the history
+Of the farm--its former owner--and so-forth, etcetery!
+
+And--well--it was inte_rest_in'--I su-prised him, I suppose,
+By the loud and frequent manner in which I blowed my nose!--
+But his su-prise was greater, and it made him wonder more,
+When I kissed and hugged the widder when she met us at the door!--
+
+_It was Mary_: They's a feelin' a-hidin' down in here--
+Of course I can't explain it, ner ever make it clear.--
+It was with us in that meetin', I don't want you to fergit!
+And it makes me kind o' nervous when I think about it yit!
+
+I _bought_ that farm, and _deeded_ it, afore I left the town,
+With "title clear to mansions in the skies," to Mary Brown!
+And fu'thermore, I took her and _the childern_--fer, you see,
+They'd never seed their Grandma--and I fetched 'em home with me.
+
+So _now_ you've got an idy why a man o' fifty-four,
+Who's lived a cross old bachelor fer thirty year' and more,
+Is a-lookin' glad and smilin'!--And I've jest come into town
+To git a pair o' license fer to _marry_ Mary Brown.
+
+[Illustration: (FARMER WHIPPLE--BACHELOR--TAILPIECE)]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (THE ROSE--TITLE)]
+
+THE ROSE
+
+
+It tossed its head at the wooing breeze;
+  And the sun, like a bashful swain,
+Beamed on it through the waving trees
+  With a passion all in vain,--
+For my rose laughed in a crimson glee,
+And hid in the leaves in wait for me.
+
+The honey-bee came there to sing
+  His love through the languid hours,
+And vaunt of his hives, as a proud old king
+  Might boast of his palace-towers:
+But my rose bowed in a mockery,
+And hid in the leaves in wait for me.
+
+The humming-bird, like a courtier gay,
+  Dipped down with a dalliant song,
+And twanged his wings through the roundelay
+  Of love the whole day long:
+Yet my rose turned from his minstrelsy
+And hid in the leaves in wait for me.
+
+The firefly came in the twilight dim
+  My red, red rose to woo--
+Till quenched was the flame of love in him
+  And the light of his lantern too,
+As my rose wept with dewdrops three
+And hid in the leaves in wait for me.
+
+And I said: I will cull my own sweet rose--
+  Some day I will claim as mine
+The priceless worth of the flower that knows
+  No change, but a bloom divine--
+The bloom of a fadeless constancy
+That hides in the leaves in wait for me!
+
+But time passed by in a strange disguise,
+  And I marked it not, but lay
+In a lazy dream, with drowsy eyes,
+  Till the summer slipped away,
+And a chill wind sang in a minor key:
+"Where is the rose that waits for thee?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I dream to-day, o'er a purple stain
+  Of bloom on a withered stalk,
+Pelted down by the autumn rain
+  In the dust of the garden-walk,
+That an Angel-rose in the world to be
+Will hide in the leaves in wait for me.
+
+
+
+
+HAS SHE FORGOTTEN?
+
+
+I
+
+Has she forgotten? On this very May
+We were to meet here, with the birds and bees,
+As on that Sabbath, underneath the trees
+We strayed among the tombs, and stripped away
+The vines from these old granites, cold and gray--
+And yet indeed not grim enough were they
+To stay our kisses, smiles and ecstasies,
+Or closer voice-lost vows and rhapsodies.
+Has she forgotten--that the May has won
+Its promise?--that the bird-songs from the tree
+Are sprayed above the grasses as the sun
+Might jar the dazzling dew down showeringly?
+Has she forgotten life--love--everyone--
+Has she forgotten me--forgotten me?
+
+
+II
+
+Low, low down in the violets I press
+My lips and whisper to her. Does she hear,
+And yet hold silence, though I call her dear,
+Just as of old, save for the tearfulness
+
+Of the clenched eyes, and the soul's vast distress?
+Has she forgotten thus the old caress
+That made our breath a quickened atmosphere
+That failed nigh unto swooning with the sheer
+Delight? Mine arms clutch now this earthen heap
+Sodden with tears that flow on ceaselessly
+As autumn rains the long, long, long nights weep
+In memory of days that used to be,--
+Has she forgotten these? And in her sleep,
+Has she forgotten me--forgotten me?
+
+
+III
+
+To-night, against my pillow, with shut eyes,
+I mean to weld our faces--through the dense
+Incalculable darkness make pretense
+That she has risen from her reveries
+To mate her dreams with mine in marriages
+Of mellow palms, smooth faces, and tense ease
+Of every longing nerve of indolence,--
+Lift from the grave her quiet lips, and stun
+My senses with her kisses--drawl the glee
+Of her glad mouth, full blithe and tenderly,
+Across mine own, forgetful if is done
+The old love's awful dawn-time when said we,
+"To-day is ours!"... Ah, Heaven! can it be
+She has forgotten me--forgotten me!
+
+[Illustration: (HAS SHE FORGOTTEN?)]
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (BLOOMS OF MAY--TITLE)]
+
+BLOOMS OF MAY
+
+
+But yesterday!...
+O blooms of May,
+And summer roses--Where-away?
+O stars above,
+And lips of love
+And all the honeyed sweets thereof!
+
+[Illustration: (O LAD AND LASS)]
+
+O lad and lass
+And orchard-pass,
+And briered lane, and daisied grass!
+O gleam and gloom,
+And woodland bloom,
+And breezy breaths of all perfume!--
+
+No more for me
+Or mine shall be
+Thy raptures--save in memory,--
+No more--no more--
+Till through the Door
+Of Glory gleam the days of yore.
+
+[Illustration: (O GLEAM AND GLOOM AND WOODLAND BLOOM)]
+
+
+
+
+THE SERMON OF THE ROSE
+
+
+Wilful we are in our infirmity
+Of childish questioning and discontent.
+Whate'er befalls us is divinely meant--
+Thou Truth the clearer for thy mystery!
+Make us to meet what is or is to be
+With fervid welcome, knowing it is sent
+To serve us in some way full excellent,
+Though we discern it all belatedly.
+The rose buds, and the rose blooms and the rose
+Bows in the dews, and in its fulness, lo,
+Is in the lover's hand,--then on the breast
+Of her he loves,--and there dies.--And who knows
+Which fate of all a rose may undergo
+Is fairest, dearest, sweetest, loveliest?
+
+Nay, we are children: we will not mature.
+A blessed gift must seem a theft; and tears
+Must storm our eyes when but a joy appears
+In drear disguise of sorrow; and how poor
+We seem when we are richest,--most secure
+Against all poverty the lifelong years
+We yet must waste in childish doubts and fears
+That, in despite of reason, still endure!
+Alas! the sermon of the rose we will
+Not wisely ponder; nor the sobs of grief
+Lulled into sighs of rapture; nor the cry
+Of fierce defiance that again is still.
+Be patient--patient with our frail belief,
+And stay it yet a little ere we die.
+
+O opulent life of ours, though dispossessed
+Of treasure after treasure! Youth most fair
+Went first, but left its priceless coil of hair--
+Moaned over sleepless nights, kissed and caressed
+Through drip and blur of tears the tenderest.
+And next went Love--the ripe rose glowing there
+Her very sister!... It is here; but where
+Is she, of all the world the first and best?
+And yet how sweet the sweet earth after rain--
+How sweet the sunlight on the garden wall
+Across the roses--and how sweetly flows
+The limpid yodel of the brook again!
+And yet--and yet how sweeter after all,
+The smouldering sweetness of a dead red rose!
+
+[Illustration: (THE SERMON OF THE ROSE)]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Riley Love-Lyrics, by James Whitcomb Riley
+
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