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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/2491.txt b/2491.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..86891c6 --- /dev/null +++ b/2491.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4747 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of Love or Fame; and Other Poems by Fannie +Isabelle Sherrick + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + + +Love or Fame; and Other Poems, by Fannie Isabelle Sherrick + + + +Contents. + + + + +Part I. +Girlhood . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5-10. +Part II. +The Storm . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11-26. +Part III. +Fame . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27-45. +Part IV. +Broken Links . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46-56. +Part V. +Love . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57-71. +Miscellaneous Poems . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72. +To Longfellow . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72. +Tower Grove . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74. +A Shell . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77. +Two Pictures . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79. +The Queen-Rose-A Summer Idyl . . . . . . . . . . . . 81. +Twin Lilies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 83. +Memory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85. +Moonlight . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87. +The Star of Youth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 88. +The Day is Dead . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 89. +My Queen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 90. +The Song of the Brook . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 91. +Night . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 92. +Sounds from the Convent . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 94. +The Lake . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 96. +Life . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 98. +A Memory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 99. +The Baby's Tear. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100. +Irene . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 102. +Unrecorded . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 103. +Beatrice Cenci . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 107. +Under the Stars . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 109. +Catching the Sunbeams . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 110. +The Soldier's Grave . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 112. +Beyond the Sunset are the Hills of God . . . . . . . 114. +Never . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 115. +The Mississippi . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 117. +The Prince Imperial . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119. +On the Lake . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 121. +Beyond . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123. +A Sonnet . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 124. +Under the Sea . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 125. +The Old year and the New . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 126. +Easter . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 128. +May . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 130. +Summer Rain . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 131. +September . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 132. +October . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 133. +Falling Leaves . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 135. +Autumn Flowers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 135. +Remembrance . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 137. +Winter Flowers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 138. +Snow Flakes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 140. +Sunset on the Mississippi . . . . . . . . . . . . . 141. +Not Dead but Sleeping . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 143. +A Sunbeam . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 145. +The Phantom of Love . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 148-152. + + + + + +Love or Fame. + + + + + +Part I. +Girlhood + + + + +Girlhood, the dearest time of joy and love, +The sunny spring of gladness and of peace, +The time that joins its links with heaven above, +And all that's pure below; a running ease +Of careless thought beguiles the murmuring stream +Of girlish life, and as some sweet, vague dream, +The fleeting days go by; fair womanhood +Comes oft to lure the girlish feet away, +But by the brooklet still they love to stray, +Nor long to seek the world's engulfing flood. + +Hilda--a name that seems to stand alone-- +So strong, so clear it sharply echoing tone; +And yet a name that holds a weirdlike grace, +Withal like some strange, haunting, beauteous face; + +A woman's name, by woman's truth made dear, +That leans upon itself and knows no fear, +And yet a name a shrinking girl might wear, +With girlish ease, devoid of thought and care. +And she is worthy of this name so true-- +This girl with thoughtful eyes of darkest hue, +This maiden stepping o'er the golden line +That separates the child from woman divine. +Not yet she feels the longing, vague unrest +That ever fills the woman's throbbing breast, +But with a childlike questioning after truth, +She lingers yet amid the dreams of youth. + +And now upon the bounding ocean's shore +She stands where creep the wavelets more and more, +Until at last the rocky ledge they meet, +And break in foam around her lingering feet. +Her eyes glance downward in a careless way, +As though she loved their soft caressing play, +And fain would stand and muse forever there, +Lulled by their murmuring sound. + + Placid and fair +The ocean lies before her dreamy eyes, +Stretched forth in beauty 'neath the sunny skies, +And through the clouds' far lifting, sheeny mist +She sees the pale blue skies by sunlight kissed. +Enraptured by the calm and holy scene, +She stands a creature pure and glad; serene, +Her eyes glance heavenward and a roseate shade +Plays o'er her Hebe features--perfect made. + +A child of nature, she has never known +The arts and wiles which worldlier spirits own; +She loves the ocean's ever changing play, +When round her form is flung its dashing spray, +And oft she laughs in wildest, merriest glee +When folded close within its billows free. + +She loves the wildwood's green and leafy maze, +Within whose foliage hide the sun's bright rays; +And like a child she hoards the bright-eyed flowers, +Companions of so many happy hours. +With loving heart she greets each form of earth, +To which God's kindly hand has given birth. +But better far than all, she loves to roam +Far on the cliff's lone height, and there at eve +To watch the dark ships as they wander home. +Strange dreams in this calm hour her fancies weave, +So quaint and odd, they seem but shadowy rays, +Caught from the sunset's deep, mysterious haze. + +Lo! now she stands like some pale statue fair, +With eyes cast down and careless falling hair; +She vaguely dreams of things that are to be, +A woman's future, noble, fresh and free; +And o'er her face youth's crimson colors flow, +As with a beating heart she thinks she'll give +Her life to one true heart, and with a glow +Of pride she vows her future life to live +So good and true that all her days shall seem +But the fulfillment of his heart's proud dream. + +Yet soon she trembles with some unknown thought, +A vague and restless longing fills her breast, +And with a passionate fear her mind is wrought. +She cannot case away the strange unrest; +With hands clasped close in attitude of prayer +She stands, her pleading face so young and fair, +Is turned unto the skies, but no, not here +Will God speak all unto her listening ear; +Too soon in dark, deep strife upon this shore +Her soul will yield its peace forevermore. + +And then she hurries home with flying feet, +The faces of that humble home to meet; +For there in peace her dear old parents dwell, +That simple twain who love this maid so well +They fain would keep her with them ever there, +A thoughtless child, free from all grief and care. +But ah! they cannot understand the heart, +Which turns from all their loving ways apart, +And dwells within a region of its own. +Within that home she seems to stand alone, +While all unseen the forces gather, day +By day, that o'er her life shall hold their sway; +And like a fragile flower before the storm, +She bows her head and ends her slender form, +For even like the flower she must stand +And brave the tempest, for 'tis God's command. + +And like to her how many a girl has stood +Upon the unknown brink of womanhood +And sought in vain from guiding hand and power; +But unlike her in that dread trial hour, +They've lost their faith, for Hilda's trusting mind, +E'en though it stood alone, had so much strength, +And faith that to life's problem she could find +Solution strange and subtle; even though at length +She might complain and grieve o'er all the wasted past. +Oh! life is dark and full of unseen care, +And better were it if all girls thus fair +And young were truly understood at last. +For every girl some time will feel the need +Of loving hearts to strengthen and to lead, +When first are opened to her wondering eyes +The world's fair fields and seeming paradise. +She only sees the beauty--hears the song, +Knows not the hidden snares, nor dreams of wrong. +'Tis woman's happiest time, and yet 'tis true +A sombre tinge may mar its brightest hue. +For girlhood too will have its doubts and fears, +Will lose the past and long for coming years, +And sad indeed when youth is left alone +To face the coming future all unknown. +The eyes see not that should be strong and keen; +While powerless, weak girlhood stands between +The tides of life, and though its aims are high, +How often will they fail! + + Where dangers lie +Poor Hilda stands and knows it not, the dream +Of life to her is bright, youth's sunny gleam +Shines over all in tender, softened light, +And swiftly do the moments wing their flight. +But yet so sensitive her shrinking soul, +That o'er her life sometimes great shadows roll, +Like angry clouds; upon a wild dark shore +She stands, alone and weak, while more and more +The unknown forces grow and cast their blight, +Till all the past is lost in one dark night; +Unto the woman's lot her life is cast, +And like a dream the girlish days drift past. + + + + + +Part II. +The Storm. + + + + + +One eve she stood upon a lonely lea +And watched the deep'ning shadows grim +That threw their forms athwart the restless sea, +Making the radiance of the West grow dim. +A glorious canopy appeared to rest +O'er changing sky and distant rocky caves, +While o'er some weary sea-bird's pure white breast, +A bright glow spread when dipping in the waves, +Her tired form found therein coolness; peace +Supremely reigned, and under Silence's wings +Vanished afar and near the waves' wide rings; +Still grander grew the heavy golden skies, +With gorgeous hues and airy snow-white fleece, +And dreamier grew the maiden's watching eyes, +As through and through her trembling soul and frame, +The thrill of nature's beauty softly came; +And while her eyes with love and rapture filled, +Of all that weird and strangely splendid scene, +All other thoughts within her soul were stilled, +While o'er her head fair spirits seemed to lean. + +Around her grew a stillness unto death, +The waves their ever restless motion stayed; +All living nature seemed to hold its breath, +As if by some stupendous power o'erweighed; +And right athwart the sunset's fading glow, +A great black cloud, like some huge monstrous thing, +Threw round and round the sun's last dipping ring +The impress of its shadow drooping low; +And lower, lower fell that mighty cloud, +With menacing shape as in defiance proud, +Until at last all sky and earth and sea +Seemed filled with shadows from its darkening wings--- +That dreadful spell cast over waves once free, +Hushed into silence deep all living things. + +And still the maiden's watching, eager eyes +Were fixed unmoved on black'ning sea and skies; +So motionless she stood with hands clasped close +And heart-beats growing few and fainter all this time, +That e'en it seemed as though the life-blood froze +Within her veins, like streams in frigid clime! +To-night she'd seen strange visions in the clouds, +Of cities great and busy murmuring crowds, +That called her on to some far different life, +'Mid active minds and noisy, changing strife. +With beating heart she saw the clouds unfold, +Within their depths there gleamed a crown of gold. + +Too soon the scene had faded from the skies, +While o'er the earth the threat'ning cloud had spread +That rudely thrust itself before her eyes +And filled her with an overpowering dread; +Yet still she stood with proud, unbending form, +Though all the world seemed near some awful doom. +That dreary silence by foretold the storm +That soon would rage within the night's dark gloom; +A deathly hush o'er waiting land and sea, +And then with one loud clap the storm cloud burst. + +Behold! the elements again set free, +As if with fearful spell they'd long been curst, +Now vented all the power of stifled birth +Upon the luckless unoffending earth. +The waves around the cliff's low base sprang high +And madly dashed their spray in furious rage; +The maid, howe'er, looked down with scornful eye, +As if she could their mighty power assuage. +She gloried in that strange, terrific storm, +The lightning's glare and hurried thunder peal +Awakened in her slight and girlish form +A hidden might that bade her trembling kneel +Upon that lonely, wave-encircled height +And pledge her life to fame, that she might win +The glory of the world's enthroning light, +Then give it back to God all freed from sin. +Long, long she knelt, her soul in prayer thrown, +Unheeding still the lightning's lurid glare; +For what were raging storms and nature's moan +To that mad strife within her bosom fair! + +At last the lightnings ceased, the winds grew still; +All powers recognized God's mightier will; +Old ocean, like a child with passion spent, +Lay gently sobbing in its rocky bed; +Anon it sighed and to the dark waves lent, +A sad, sweet song; the storm indeed was dead. +Along the sable robes that veiled the sky, +The red stars glowed, yet paled each tiny fire +Before the yellow moon, who, throned on high, +Hung on her crescent bow a golden lyre. + +From Hilda, too, the stormy grief had fled, +And with a strange, deep peace inspired, she rose +From off the rocks and lifted up her head. +The moon smiled on her upturned face, and close +Beneath her feet the waves swept to and fro. +A smile as that which lit the tide below, +Then dawned upon her lips, for god her prayer +Had heard; that harp of gold--these skies now fair, +Seemed but the emblem that her soul's dark strife +Should lead her soon unto a nobler life. + +Beyond her, on the ledge, a dark form stood, +Regarding her with wistful, wondering eyes; +He seemed the type of all that's true and good +In man; down from the starry, moonlit skies +The radiance fell and crowned his youthful head, +While on his brow a dim, vague majesty +Seemed shadowed forth. Yet restless as the sea +His eyes that Hilda's fair young face had read. + +With beating heart he'd watched her kneeling there +Upon the rocks; had listened to her prayer +In silence wondering; so strange it seemed +To see her there amid the storm, but still +He stood and powerless; a gladdening thrill +Ran through his veins to see that form alone, +And o'er his noble, Godlike face there gleamed +A pride to think this maid was all his own. +He loved--and love our hearts can ne'er repress-- +In truth he gazed upon that face and form +As though upon her head each wet and gleaming tress +Were more than all the phantoms of the storm. +He loved as even the sun must love the flowers +That shyly glance to him 'neath leafy bowers, +Or as the river with its strong deep tide +Must love the willows nestling by its side. + +She stood as one within a waking dream, +Nor looked upon the earth, nor in the sky; +But only far at sea whose amber gleam +Was as the light that in fair gems doth lie. +Entranced she stood--the mocking visions came-- +But see! she starts; upon the air her name +Steals like a whisper of the wave's low song, +Borne by the zephyrs of the night along. +She turns--beside her on the rocks he stands +With questioning eyes and eager, outstretched hands; +She smiles, then starts back with a startled look, +As some wild fawn within its sheltered nook. + +"Fair Hilda, tell me why with reckless feet +You braved the elements and dared to kneel +Here in the angry storm--it was not meet +That all this night's wild tempest you should feel." + +She looked at him with almost haughty air, +To think that to reprove her he should dare; +Then fearlessly as some undaunted child +She met his eyes that searched her own for truth, +She who had scorned the tempest dark and wild, +Feared not the chidings of his hasty youth. +And undismayed she moved to where he stood, +With blushing, beauteous charms of maidenhood, +And there with rapt eyes looking up to him, +She told him of those visions never dim; +Of that wild spirit born amid the storm +Whose restless strength had swayed her fragile form. +Before his own she laid her very soul, +That he might there its inmost thoughts unroll. + +Her pleading voice grew stronger with each word, +Until enthralled and hushed his spirit heard. +Upright she stood in girlish, thrilling grace, +The glancing moonlight falling o'er her face; +It seemed as though some heavenly, unknown power +Had come to her within that strange, short hour, +To make the listener feel the truth divine +That lingered in her words and true design. + +Her rich young voice flowed on and on, +In silvery cadence earnest, clear and strong, +And still he stood with bowed head 'neath the skies +Bound by the fascination of her eyes +And winning voice--and manly thought he stood, +He humbly bowed before that womanhood +Which seemed with conscious might to grasp the power +Of fame, the world's alluring, phantom flower. +Amazed he stood, before her words struck dumb; +And startled gazed--the maid he loved had come +This night to teach him that her woman's soul +Had dared to seek, than his, a higher goal. + +At last each thought was told; with eager eyes +That glowed with fire, as stars throughout the night, +She waited as some birdling ere it flies, +Awaits to poise itself for stronger flight. + +But he, when that dear voice had ceased to flow, +Awoke as if from some entrancing spell; +He knew not what to say, but to and fro, +He paced awhile with restless step; too well +He knew her dauntless will, her fearless heart; +He dared not say her dreams, her plans were naught, +And yet to lose her--quickly came the thought-- +It roused him with a sudden mad'ning start. + +"Oh! Hilda unto me these things do seem +But burning traces of some ill-starred dream; +I grieve that e'er thy soul should long to claim +The thorny diadem of worldly fame. +Life's mystery to thee is yet unknown; +Why dost thou seek its misery to own? +With all a woman's power thou this night +Hast led me on by th' fascinating light +Of thy dear eyes and voice, till almost blind +To reason, I allowed my wandering mind +To follow as a willing captive thine; +I listened with a will not wholly mine. +But now when freed from th' witchery of thy voice +I see no wisdom in thy new made choice. +Thou art a woman pure, whose noble heart +Would fain do, in this world, its earnest part; +But Hilda, with a girl's weak, erring hand, +Thy hopes are builded on the treacherous sand. +Give up this dream that in thy mind now lies +And be again my Hilda, glad and wise." + +"No, no" the dark eyes flash with sudden fire, +"Of this bright dream I know I ne'er shall tire; +The busy world has called me, I will go +And take my station, be it high or low." +"Dear Hilda," then his voice grew low and sweet, +"I love thee; and my love has not been brief. +When thou wert young I led thy wand'ring feet, +And ever guarded thee from pain and grief. +Through all my life thou wert its hope and pride, +But now you turn from that true life aside, +And long to wander as a willful child, +In other paths, by luring dreams beguiled. +Not so my love for thee; though e'en the sun +Should disappear, his race of glory run, +And stars like lost souls wand'ring through the sky, +Should vanish as that sun; though worlds should die, +And all the purple clouds should come at eve +And for the earth a robe of mourning weave, +While to the very skies the seas should roll +In waves of grief to sweep the heavens' scroll, +It could not change my smallest thought of thee; +I count a man as naught if he's not free, +Yet willingly for thy dear sake I'd live +Where all the world my freedom could not give, +If that I knew could save thee from one tear. +Than werefore take from my thy presence dear? +If thou would'st wear a crown, why leave this scene? +But stay! I'll crown thee as my love--my queen." + +She sadly drew away with troubled mien, +O'er bending face a heightened color spread, +"You cannot understand me yet," she said, +"I'd rather be a WOMAN than a QUEEN." +Then wistfully she looked out on the sea, +"I have a gift that God has given me, +I'd use it that the world should better grow; +I long for fame because I then should know +My power was felt and recognized--but stay, +My words are vain, you sadly turn away." + +"Choose, Hilda," then once more he proudly cried; +Upon his face there gleamed a passionate pride; +"Between this love that I now offer thee +And that vain fame as faithless as the sea. +I give thee deepest love that man can feel, +Before thine own my heart in truth doth kneel. +Beware how you do mock your early love, +Lest it should die as some poor tortured dove; +If once 'tis dead your woman's heart my grieve +Itself to death; return it never will, +And like the sun, a shadow it may leave +Whose glory, dead and gone, will haunt you still." + +Her eyes were filled with grief, her head bent low, +Upon the shore the waves crept to and fro, +Their moan was vaguely echoed in her breast +That vainly struggled with its great unrest. +Her heart was throbbing with the heavy pain +His words had caused; on each fair cheek a stain +Of crimson lay, as that which softly falls +From setting sun on gleaming marble walls. +It rose unto a glow, then died away +In fitful gleams; on drooping eyelids lay +A weight, yet 'neath those heavy veils of snow +The dark eyes quivered with a restless glow. + +She could not speak, mute as the rocks that stand +In stony silence now and evermore, +She stood, while stars looked down from heaven's shore +And pitied her. Unto his proud command +Her heart had not yet dared to make reply +Lest in those words a deeper pain should lie. + +Impatient grown, he paces to and fro +Upon the rocks, then on the tide below, +Looks down with troubled frowns and stifled sighs. +As quick as light across the calm, clear skies, +A meteor flashes down, a dazzling sight, +Then dies, and all the heavens seem as before. +"Look, Hilda, look! so dies this lamp of night +That once was placed upon god's starry floor +To give us light, while yet doth gleam each star +That calmly moves within its own allotted space. +Take warning, Hilda, fly not from thy place. +Nor seek to wander from thy realm too far, +Lest in a trackless waste thy soul shall stray, +And as this meteor, flash and fade away, +While all unmoved the world's calm eyes shall gaze, +Nor give one tear unto thy shortened days." + +Back from her face the waves of crimson rolled, +And left it pale as death; as flowers unfold +Their dewy depths, to him her liquid eyes +Were gently raised: "Within that symbol lies +Perhaps a truth," she says, "I dare not say, +Yet, Adrian, it cannot matter now, +Determined is my heart; upon my brow +A crown will rest that will not fade away. +Oh! seek not in my sorely troubled breast +To rouse again its strength of dark unrest; +For better were my heart in torture wrung +Than linger here and leave its song unsung." + +With sad, sad eyes he looked into her face, +Then turned aside with grand, unconscious grace, +And bravely stifled every wayward sigh, +Though in his voice his sorrow still did lie. +"Then as the sea that looks up to some star, +Reflecting its bright beauty from afar, +Thus shall I ever look on thy dear face +And from afar behold thy winning grace. +And as the star's light in the deep blue sea +Still mirrored in my life thy soul shall be. +Even as the ocean hears the star's glad song +Above its own sad, plaintive melody, +So to my heart thy music shall belong +And in my saddest hours will gladden me. +I give thee to that mocking world so vain, +Although it gives me much and weary pain, +And may its ruthless hand be laid on thee +With lighter touch than it has given me. +Remember, if thy spirit should grow weak, +To thee my aid will come if thou'lt but speak +And tell me if within thy troubled breast +A longing comes for loving care and rest. +For even now I love thee none the less +Because thou lov'st not me; each waving tress +Upon thy brow is still as dear to me +As sunlight to each flower and budding tree. +One look into those eyes I love so well, +And then, dear one--a sad, a last farewell." + +With that he caught her small and trembling hand; +With simple royal grace and gesture grand, +He pressed it to his lips, then let it fall;-- +His dream of love had passed beyond recall. + +That touch awakened all her woman's love, +Her heart responded to his silent cry; +As flowers love the strong, brave sun above, +She loved this man nor ever questioned why. +Before this night no doubts had come between +To mar its trust or stir its depths serene. +Oh! blessed is that love and faith indeed, +Which knows no doubt but only feels its need; +That unsought love which comes and fills the breast +Because we cannot help--that is the best. + +With soft caressing touch unto his own +She pressed her hand, then backward swept the hair +Whose shining wreath around her form was thrown; +Her darkened eyes with pleading, troubled air +Looked up into his own; she seemed a child +Beside his strength, yet through his form a shiver +Ran, and to his lips there came a painful quiver, +That told too well the stormy passion wild +This childlike girl had wakened this hour. +Its might swept o'er his soul with fearful power-- +He dared not move--a silence strange and deep +Fell o'er them both, as some half-waking sleep. + +To lose her! ah! the fearful, madd'ning thought, +Unto a wilder grief his soul it wrought; +With desperate pride he wrestled with his pain +Lest she should see it in his face again. +But ah! what slender chain of love is this +That can be broken with a last warm kiss! + +With longing eyes she stood there by his side, +Her looks fixed on the ocean's tireless tide, +Then gazed down on the robes that swept her feet; +His searching eyes she dared not, could not meet; +And why? within her own the dark tears stood, +True signs of weak and loving womanhood. + +At last she put aside her love's young dream, +And all the brighter did its glory seem +Because it must be banished from her heart. +They stood so near, and yet how far apart-- +A gulf had come between them, vast and wide, +A gulf made by her longing, restless pride. + +With low and trembling voice at last she said +With sadly falling tears and bended head: + +"Oh! Adrian, my faint heart fain would dwell +Forever here beneath thy love's dear spell; +But ah! beyond the height where breaks the day, +There lives a charm that calls my soul away. +Afar the mountains glow in pale, blue mist, +By fleecy clouds and summer sunshine kissed. +And see! beyond them all I long to be, +Beyond this shore, beyond the trackless sea. +Ah! this is why, dear Adrian, we must part, +Although it rends my grieving, restless heart; +Forgive me if to-night I've caused thee pain-- +If grief be thine, forgive me once again. +Farewell! when from thy life my love is fled, +Henceforth to thee let Hilda's name be dead." + +And this was all--vague shadows crept around, +The waves sung in his ears their moaning sound; +He looked in vain for Hilda's dear, sweet face, +Forevermore was lost her loving grace +To him. In vain he called forth in despair; +His words returned upon the empty air. +Like some pale spirit she had stolen from him +And left him there 'mid shadows dark and grim. + + + + + +Part III. +Fame. + + + + +Oh what is fame! a flower that dies at eve, +A golden mist that subtle fancies weave, +An unknown star that wise men never see, +An idle dream of things that may not be. +Farewell to peace when once the dreams of fame +Shall stir the soul into a restless flame. +There is no rest by day, no sleep by night; +The eyes are blinded by the dazzling light. +Ah! woe to him who first espies the star, +It hath the power his life to make or mar. + +Amid the sombre draperies of the sky, +The faintly-gleaming stars half-hidden lie; +Upon Night's bending head a hood of snow +Seems weighing it unto the earth below; +With gentle frowns she shakes her sable hair +And sends the snow-flakes whirling through the air. +And soon a soft, thick mantle, pure and white, +Gives to the earth a new and holy light. +While with a thousand lamps the city glows +As if encircled with a diadem; +Each lamp transformed into a sparkling gem, +That o'er the earth its flickering splendor throws. +Paris, that brilliant city, gleams to-night +With glittering lights that hide her ghastly woes; +In mockery she's robed in bridal white, +Though in her heart a tide of crimson flows. + +The city is aglow with wealth and pride; +A gilded hall is thronged from side to side +With fashion's train of beauteous dames, who smile +And gaily, archly chat the happy while +With gallant men who smile on them again. +All seems forgotten--want and weary pain +That fill the earth with all their drear distress; +Yet many a heart beneath the silken dress +Of its fair wearer hides its weariness +'Neath such bright smiles that none would ever guess +What lies concealed; and handsome, manly eyes +In which the hidden lovelight dreaming lies, +Are telling o'er in silent language sweet, +The love which lips and tongue would fain repeat. +Rich jewels gleam and proud eyes quickly glance, +And costly robes each womanly charm enhance, +From tempting coral lips gay laughter flies, +To be reflected o'er in arch, coquettish eyes. + +But see! each tongue is hushed within that hall, +From dainty hands gay fans unheeded fall; +While eyes that one glad moment just before +Were bent 'neath love's warm glances to the floor, +Are looking now, forgetting lovers' sighs, +To see the veiling curtain slowly rise: +And breathless waits that glittering, changing throng, +To hear once more their idol's rippling song. + +A face divine, a crown of braided hair, +Dark eyes that gleam with proud and passionate air, +A robe of snowy satin sweeping wide, +A brow that shadows forth a noble pride. + +And she is here--the queen of song, Arline, +With flashing eyes and proud triumphant mien. +She smiles--she knows her potent power full well; +With silvery song she breaks the golden spell +Of silence--sings until the walls resound +With echoing strains, and all the air around +Grow tremulous with melody; high +Beyond the very dome it seems to rise +And reach with daring wings the listening skies. +Within her breast a power that cannot die +Seems lifting her beyond the earth; along +On living waves of fire her glorious song +Of songs seems borne. Triumphant in this hour, +Her voice reveals a wild and stormy power +Of weird, sad passion that awakes each soul +Into a mad, sweet ecstasy of pain; +Then low the waves of dying music roll +And leave the air in silence once again. + +Ah! conquering song, thou wert not born of earth, +Celestial stars proclaim thy heavenly birth! +And proud Arline, with wondrous, thrilling art, +Has cast thy spell upon each answering heart. +Oh, sing, Arline, and fear not for thy song! +The music of the waves upon the shore, +Is not so grand as that, nor e'en the roar +Of countless oceans swiftly borne along. +Oh! poets, rave not of your singing seas, +Your rivers with their rippling melodies; +The human voice alone can touch the heart, +And draw it from its lower self apart. +Then sing, Arline, uplift your starry eyes, +Awake the very echoes of the skies, +And rouse to nobler deeds this eager throng;-- +In all the world there's naught so sweet as song. + +But hush--in low sad strains the music dies, +Low at her feet a wealth of flowers lies; +She smiles--the world's bright fame is clearly won, +Along her veins the quickened fires now run; +Her dark eyes flash--Oh! fame, thou art divine! +Into her heart, like streams of blood-red wine, +The world's sweet homage flows; a deepening strain +Of crimson plays upon her face. Oh! fame, +Fear not, for she is thine; within thy flame +Her soul enraptured burns--and love's sad pain +Is all forgotten in this brilliant hour +That proves too well her strange and gifted power. + +But see! still deeper grows the crimson glow +Upon her face, for at her feet a crown +Is thrown of royal roses; bending down +She sees in star-gemmed flowers of purest snow +The word "Arline" amid the diadem +Of circling red; and in their midst a gem +That sparkles with a strange intensive light. +She smiles--a smile that rouses all the fire +In one young heart; with quick and eager flight +His eyes seek hers; unto her face still higher +The warm blood flows beneath that ling'ring gaze. +Her drooping eyes grow liquid with the rays +Of light within their depths; the rippling hair, +With burnished hues of brown and amber rare, +Falls o'er the shaded brow; while sweeping low, +The long, dark lashes hide the deepening glow +In downcast eyes. + + Oh! painter, do not tell +Of silvery streams and shaded, flowery dell, +Nor talk of clouds with faces to the sun, +That hang low down where golden rivers run. +But dare to paint with skillful, cunning art +The secret workings of a woman's heart. +Oh, catch the light that lingers in her eyes-- +The passing gleam that o'er the shadow flies; +Then paint for me the secrets of her soul, +That I may read as on some written scroll. +If this you cannot do, then talk no more +Of nature's wealth of deep and mystic lore-- +Of waving grass and azure skies; a face +Is worth them all. + + She stands in sunny grace, +A woman--the fairest picture e'er was wrought; +A poem fresh from God's own living thought. + +She turns again, for once more at her feet +A few fair flowers fall--spell-bound she stands, +Then stoops and clasps them all with eager hands; +Blue violets, and roses wild and sweet, +Forget-me-nots and daises, pure and white-- +Oh! dear wild flowers, how come you here this night +To welcome her with shy and modest eyes, +And dewy faces where the sunshine lies. +Caressingly she bends and kisses them +With warm, bright lips--the royal diadem +Is thrown aside for these few welcome flowers, +And all forgotten is the fame--the hours +Of dazzling triumph; like an eager child +She stands and clasps them in her hands; and wild +And restless are her thoughts; oh! mocking fame, +Where is thy victory now! thy burning flame! +On memory's wings she's carried back to where +These same wild flowers perfumed the sunny air. +And once again in childhood's tireless feet, +She wanders on the shore where dark waves beat +And moan. She bends her head, her eyes are wet +With tears. Weep not, Arline! your heart may fret +Itself in vain, the world will never care. +Reveal not to these heartless eyes the pain +That clasps your heart, but raise your head again +And let your grand, young voice ring on the air! +See! 'neath your feet the crown of roses lies +All crushed and torn; then lift your proud, dark eyes +Unto this throng once more, and let them see +Within those depths, a spirit strong and free. + +The fragrant breath of flowers she loves so well +Breathes on her face and wraps her in a spell; +So often may a flower's fair perfume +Bring back the sunny past--the present gloom. + +Arline, Arline, the world is at your feet, +Why droop your head, why grow so still and pale? +Are flowers worth tears, does life no joys repeat? +And fame is yours--is this the hour to fail? +And see! those eyes have never left your face, +Those eyes like pansies heavy with the dew; +They seek your own, reflect your royal grace, +Arline, and read your every thought; anew. +They wonder at your silence--smile once more, +Thou queenly one, and send that eager heart +Into a rapturous dream. Upon the floor +There lies his off'ring--turn your steps apart +And crush it not, for he will grieve, Arline, +To see it this. + + At last her troubled eyes +Are raised once more, and now a gentle queen +She stands before them all--the shadow dies-- +A softened splendor like the night's weird grace +Rests on her brow and faintly-glowing face. +She lifts her head--she sees the eager crowd, +Her blood begins to leap, her eyes grow proud, +Yet still within their liquid depths there lies +A childlike mournfulness, a dread of truth. +Forever fled they are, the dreams of youth, +All broken are the dear and olden ties, +And yet what can it matter to her now +She wears the crown of fame upon her brow. +For those bright laurels that so soon can fade +She's sold her love nor deemed the choice ill made. +Once more upon the silent evening air +Her rich voice ripples like a golden stream +Let loose beneath the sun; a yearning prayer +Within her low-voiced, echoing song doth seem +To lie. The bounding blood now swiftly flows +Along her veins, and on her face it glows +With warm, bright fires. With trembling hands are pressed +The flowers against her heart, a dark unrest +Seems in her soul, yet in those glancing eyes +A tender radiance, like faint sunlight lies. +Oh, sing, Arline, and let the echoes die +In deep'ning melody throughout the sky. +Sing on, for hearts are growing pure again +Beneath thy woman's spell; a power divine +You wield to-night to soften and refine. +Faint hearts are growing sad and full of pain, +Proud eyes that have not wept for many years +Are downward cast, and filled with unshed tears. +What though thy heart is in that low, sad song, +They know it not, their souls are borne along +And strangely thrilled by its sweet melody; +They cannot know what thoughts may dwell in thee. +A song may wake the echoes of the soul +And o'er each life the tides of memory roll. + +The music dies--she fain would go--but no. +They call her back, again her dark eyes glow +With longing light; once more she stands and sings +The plaintive words whose hidden sorrow rings +Through every heart. These words her lips repeat; +The crowd move not; they listen at her feet. + + +When nobler lips than mine shall sing + Of faith and holy love; +And angles round thee closer fling + Their glory from above; +Then think thou of my sad, long song, + In realms far, far away; +Though brighter memories round thee throng + To gild each happy day. + +When fond lips with their glad, dear thrill, + Shall press thine own once more; +And softly of their own free will + Shall whisper love's sweet lore; +Then think of one who loved thee well + In happy days gone by; +Though round thee glows a golden spell + That carries thee on high. + +Perhaps when each brave life is o'er + And duties are well done; +Our hearts shall meet as once of yore + Beneath a brighter sun. +And there, where life and love are well, + We never more shall part; +While will return the olden spell + To bind us heart to heart. + + +A parting glance--a glimpse of dreamy eyes, +A fair young face on which a shadow lies; +And she is gone, the plaintive song is done. +Arline has faded as the setting sun +Fades from the skies, and left no parting trace, +Save memories of her pale and haunting face. + +'Tis twelve o'clock, the city lies asleep, +And far above, within the azure deep, +The jeweled stars keep watch. Down from the skies +A dark veil falls o'er tired, earthly eyes; +Sleep bids us take farewell of care and sin +And seek a nobler, purer life within. +Night watches like a black-robed, silent nun, +When men would sleep, and kindly shades the sun +Till morning comes. Upon the grim, dark walls +The moon's pale light in softened splendor falls, +And 'neath a mantle of redeeming light +Hides each unsightly stain and time-worn blight; +While unto eyes now old and dim with grief, +Come visions of a childhood glad, though brief, +When mother-love touched from their hearts all care +And left the impress of her teachings there. +As rifts in hanging clouds through which the rays +Of silvery moonlight glance, so o'er each heart +Steal flitting gleams of happy golden days, +When in life's drama sorrow took no part. + +Into a stately dwelling dark and old, +A woman glides with troubled, weary air +Her face is pale, her hands are white and cold, +The silken hood falls from her loosened hair; +She heeds it not, but listlessly stands, +With thoughtful eyes and tightly folded hands. +At last the maid with noiseless step draws near, +Removes her wraps and in her listening ear +Speaks these few words: "In passing through the crowd +To-night, a man of face and manner proud, +This missive gave to me. I looked around,--- +For one brief moment his face upon me frowned, +Then he was gone, and though I scanned the street, +His form again my glances did not meet." + +The lady takes the note with careless hands, +Then turns to where the ling'ring maid still stands +And bids her go. At last she is alone, +With eyes indifferent, though thoughtful grown, +She looks upon the note. "Oh woman's heart, +Can you and earthly love ne'er dwell apart? +Why is it though I would not love, love's pain +Must ever follow me. Are hearts so weak +That they must love though love is all in vain, +And all unworthy is the prize they seek. +Ah, many like to this do I receive, +Couched in such words as do my proud heart grieve; +And oft I wish that woman had no power, +So fleet, it lingers but a tearful hour, +To draw unto herself the love of man, +Whose shallow depths too well her eyes may scan. +Too oft his love with deep and fearful blight +Steals from her woman's life its holiest light. +My heart is not for love, though love is well, +And oft it hath a dear and happy spell. +Wrapped in the cherished mission of my art, +Contentment dwells within my earnest heart. +Within the rippling measures of my song +The choicest treasures of the world belong. +Why seek for more, the world and fame are mine, +Then wherefore love, though love should be divine?" + +At last she reads the note; upon her face +A deep indifference lies,--a cold, calm grace; +But suddenly her eyes light up, her hands +Are trembling, with a nervous haste she stands +And glances o'er the page. What can this be, +Arline, that brings such new-found pain to thee? +At first her eyes are filled with unshed tears, +Brought back by memories of other years; +Anon, her mind by wondering fear is wrought +Awakened by some new unwelcome thought. + +Ah! these the words that stir her heart and soul, +And write new truths on life's unwritten scroll. + +"Arline, from all the world thou fame hast won. +A crown thou wear'st that fades not with the sun; +Yet chide me not, if now unto thy ear +I speak such words as thou may'st grieve to hear, +For I shall give thee tidings from the shore +Which knows thy face and welcome step no more. + +"The two beloved ones left alone, each day, +Grieved more and more until in peace at last +The bounding line of life was safely past, +And all their sorrow then was put away. +They pined in vain for that dear birdling flown, +Who, with swift wings had left them there alone. +Yet oft in gentle tones they spoke of thee +And longed they fair, young face once more to see. +Unto our far-off shore there sometimes came +Faint rumors of thy longed-for, new-found fame. +This gave them joy indeed, yet more of pain. +For thus they knew their hopes were all in vain. +Allured unto the world was thy young heart;--- +The gay, bright world in which they had no part. + +"But, ere thy mother's eyes were closed in sleep, +She gave to me a secret strange to keep; +'Twas this, that though they called thee daughter, child, +No blood of theirs flowed in thy veins, thy race +Was of a noble kind, to splendor born; +An ancestry who wore a kingly grace, +The traces of a lineage undefiled. +Upon thy brow their dauntless pride is worn--- +But stay, thy mother, child, though strangely fair, +Was but a singer whose voice of wondrous power +Thine own is like, a voice that filled the air +With strange, sweet sounds, and oft, in many an hour, +Enchantment threw o'er all the eager throng +Who came to hear. Enthralled by her glad song +One young heart pined; low at her feet he laid +The glory of his life that she might wear +His crown of love. His wife she soon was made; +They lived awhile a happy, loving pair, +Until thou show'dst thy tiny, smiling face, +And then thy mother died that thou might'st live. +He grieved as only strong, brave men can grieve +For what is lost. Then wandered off a pace +To seek new life in lands across the sea; +He left thee here, thy life was wild and free. +Long years ago came tidings of his death, +Born sadly on the wind's taint whispering breath. +He was a peer, the last of all his race, +His Saxon strength was written on thy face. +Yet in thy veins thy mother's Southern blood +Is bounding with its warm, impetuous flood. +Enough; my words are wandering; a will +He left that may thy heart with gladness fill, +Thy girlish right be recognized at last +And left for thee his rich and vast estate. +Into the world's deep tide thy life is cast, +Yet thou art still the mistress of thy fate. +If thou would'st wear thy birthright's name and power +Speak but the word and claim thy rightful dower." + +And this is all, her head is bending low, +From shaded eyes the tears unbidden flow. +Across her face the darkening shadows fly +That tell too well the thoughts that hidden lie. + +"Oh, God! where is the joy that honor brings, +Where is the spell a golden glory flings, +When one short hour, like this, of passing pain, +Can prove the brightest hopes of life are vain? +I fondly dreamed that fame's short, fleeting power, +Could satisfy my heart in every hour. +Then wherefore is this pain, these sudden tears, +That fell like rain upon the last few years, +And wash their glory out? What joy is mine, +When two dear hearts that loved me as their own, +Have gone and left me, saddened and alone! +Sweet mother, had I heard that voice of thine +My life had not been thus. Can fame, though dear, +Replace that loss or save me from one tear? +And can it fill my heart through all the years--- +Oh, God! be kind, my heart is full of fears." + +A passionate misery o'er her fair face swept, +It awakened all the fires that long had slept. +She threw the missive down, and paced the floor +With restless steps, then suddenly stood still. +Unto her heart there came a dreadful thrill +Of grief as she had never felt before; +Her face grew pale as death, her lips were white, +And then she cried, "Oh! Father, pity me, +For I am grieved and full of doubt to-night. +I sink as one into a dark and lonely sea +Where ships are not, so desolate it seems. +Oh! can it be my aim in life is wrong, +Are hearts no better when they hear my song! +My visions fair,--Oh! are they then but dreams, +That do no good, but only lure my heart +From woman's truer paths in life apart? + +"Oh! Adrian, had'st thou then the better thought, +And have I but a web of sorrow wrought? +Do all our hopes but lead to care and pain, +Has life no sunshine, only clouds and rain? +Has woman no power to rouse to nobler deeds +The heart of man, and fill his higher needs! +Oh, God! in heaven, guide thy child to-night, +Upon my longings shed thy holiest light. +Oh! mother, with thy tender, loving eyes, +Look down upon me from the starlit skies." + +Upon her knees she sinks upon the floor +As one upon a wild and stormy shore; +Her face against the velvet cushion pressed +With hands clasped tightly to her throbbing breast. +Her robes of satin sweep the floor; her hair +Unloosened, falls low down, a golden snare +Of wondrous lights and shades; and pale and cold +Her face gleams 'neath that veil of brown and gold. + +Her breath comes quick, she battles with the storm +That gathers in her breast and trembling form. +She stills her heart--heeds not its painful throb, +Drives back her longings, stifles every sob; +And bravely through the watches of the night, +She turns her soul to God for help and light. +A prayer breathed low, a struggle long and wild, +Then peace comes near, and like a weary child, +Worn out with grief, Arline lays low her head. +A silence falls, the night is almost fled, +The lamp burns low, the moon with mystic grace +Looks down upon her fair, uplifted face. +She moves not, o'er her dusky, shaded eyes +The lids lay closed, a moonlit splendor lies +Upon her broad, white brow, and cheeks of snow +Are pressed against the crimson velvet's glow +On which her head is lain. + Oh, ne'er was wrought +A fairer form than thine, Arline, nor thought +Was ever purer than thine own; though wild +And free thy life has ever been, a child +Indeed thou art in ways of sin and wrong. +Within thy eyes and silvery sounding song, +There ever lives a simple, heaven-born truth. +An earnest motive and a girl's fair youth +Are thine, and though thy heart is wrought with fears-- +Ah! sacred unto heaven those falling tears-- +For these are more to Him than many a prayer +Said by unholy lips with humble air. +God does not care so much for empty deeds, +If pure the motive that such action feeds. +Then rest, Arline; upon thy pale, young face +There falls the peace of heaven, a lovely grace; +Around thy head the moon's bright, silver rays +Are not more stainless than thy youthful days. + + + + + +Part IV. +Broken Links + + + + +Low in the West, a banner floating wide +Of God's own colors hangs in dreamy pride; +A wealth of purple stains and gleams of gold, +A crimson splendor o'er each waving fold; +A heap of gold--a rim of amethyst, +A hanging cloud by glancing sunbeams kissed. +Afar upon the tinted, azure skies +A tiny cloud of rosy color lies; +A coral on a velvet robe of blue, +A warm, bright wave upon the skies' pale hue. +Oh! such the sunset sky of Italy, +The land of dreams, of love and melody; +The country of the passions and the heart, +The mother of th' ideal and of art. + +Oh, painter! still your heart's wild throb and cry, +You cannot paint this sunset tough you try; +The canvas cannot rival Nature's skies, +Before her hand each human effort dies. +Oh! you must dip your brush in waves of gold +If you would paint for me that amber fold. +Oh! poet, seize your pen--'tis all in vain, +You cannot paint in words that crimson stain; +Though all your soul in quivering rapture lies, +Your pen brings not those clouds to other eyes. +Though Art has power, still Nature is the queen, +Her hand alone commands this glorious scene. + +Back from the shore there stands a villa old +And quaint, upon a sloping flower-wreathed hill, +Along the side thee flows a singing rill; +Beyond, the frowning rocks rise clear and bold. +More like a palace is this lonely home, +With marble terraces and princely lands; +Rare paintings fill each high and finished room, +And marble statues made by master hands. +Without, a view of waves, and skies, and flowers; +Within a dim, luxurious sense of hours, +Of ease and wealth; a spot where one could dwell +Forever 'neath some strange, enchanted spell. + +Upon the steps a woman stands--alone, +Her lovely face, a trifle paler grown +Since last we looked upon its haunting grace. +Yet still the same child mouth, the radiant eyes, +The dauntless pride, that time cannot efface. +Before her gazes the earth in beauty lies; +Awhile she stands and gaze on the scene +With dreamy, far-off looks and thoughtful mien. +Then wends her way to where the flowers lie, +She lingers here, she cannot pass them by, +And as she bends to touch each smiling flower, +Her hands seem gifted with a magic power +That draws unto herself their clinging love, +As human tendrils drawn to God above. + +At last with ling'ring steps she takes her way +To where great massive rocks like near the bay; +Upon a rock which seems a resting place, +Just formed by Nature for some tired queen, +She half reclines, and upward lifts her face +To drink in all the glory of the scene. +Low on her cheeks the veiling lashes sweep +That hid the languid fire within her eyes, +Like shadows fall'n on flowers that softly sleep +Beneath Night's falling dews and bending skies. +Her dark brown hair, with gleams of flitting gold, +Her queenly head encircles as a crown; +A wealth of hair whose careless waves enfold +The quivering sunlight, and its rays chain down. + +But soon she starts, for even at her side +There stands a youthful from with fearless pride; +At first upon her face a deep surprise, +And then a haughty look within her eyes, +As turning round she views the handsome face +So near her own with careless, easy grace. +"Why come you here?" she says, "why follow me? +Oh! from thy presence can I ne'er be free?" + +"Arline!" he tosses back his sunny hair, +Half kneels before her with a humble air; +"Forgive me, for the fault indeed is mine +To love too well, and for thy face to ever pine. +But oh! Arline, without thee life is naught, +An idle dream, with only longings fraught; +And once, Arline, you listened to my prayer, +Nor turned away with cold and haughty air." + +She looks upon him with a face aglow: +"Why bring back memories of the long ago? +The past is dead, wake not its depths again, +Lest such remembrance bring thee only pain. +'Tis true that once a careless, heedless child, +Bewildered by the world, by fame beguiled, +I have allowed my heart to hear thy prayer." +"Yes, yes, Arline," he speaks with eager air, +"I know full well your love was mine, and I +Now claim the hand your heart cannot deny." + +"Lorraine, how can you speak such words to me? +My love was never thine, my heart is free; +You know full well I was but kind, Lorraine, +When from thy love I fled to save thee pain. +When first I met the world a vision came +So bright--of glorious power and wealth and fame; +A part of that bright dream your worship seemed, +That you could claim my heart I little dreamed. +Yet soon I woke and with an earnest will +I sought thy mind with deeper thoughts to fill. +It mattered not, your heart's bright flame still burned;-- +What were your flowers, your jeweled love to me?-- +I loved thee not; each one I would have spurned, +Had not my woman's heart been kind to thee. +At last to fly from thee, the season o'er, +I refuge sought upon this lonely shore; +And though the riches of the world were thine, +They could not win for thee one thought of mine." + +His face grows darker with a fiery pride, +His eyes flash forth the love he cannot hide; +He rises to his feet, across his soul +A passionate fury his will cannot control, +Bursts forth: + + "Arline, you know not what is love! +To tell me this, for by the fates above, +You shall be mine! See, yonder is my boat, +Upon the waves with me you soon shall float. +Hush! rouse me not or you shall see +What angry might your scorn has wrought in me." + +"Lorraine!" she meets his gaze with fearless eyes, +Though on each cheek a burning crimson lies. +She folds her arms and stands before him there +A womanly woman, pure, and good, and fair. +She says no word, but who can tell the power +An earnest woman wields in such an hour? + +He turns away--a silence falls--the night +Is coming on, the sun has taken flight, +Upon the skies a veiling shadow lies. +She moves not--from her face the color dies +And leaves it pale and calm. + + Unto her side +He comes again: "Forgive my hasty pride, +Arline, for me thou are too purely good, +And far above me is thy womanhood." + +For answer she extends her jeweled hand, +He takes it with a loving awe, as though +It were a sacred thing, and thus they stand. +At last he speaks: "Arline, before I go +The secrets of thy life I'll tell to thee, +That you may see 'tis not unknown to me. +You say you ne'er have loved--'tis false, before +You sought for fame, upon a wild, dark shore, +You lived and loved"--to Arline's questioning eyes +There came a startled look--a vague surprise-- +"The one you loved, Arline, no more loves you, +Although, perchance, you dream that he is true." + +Why grow so pale, Arline, why stand so still? +Have you no woman's pride? no woman's will? +Why should you care? the world is yours and fame, +And worldly hearts will love you all the same. +It matters not, you parted long ago, +To meet no more. Why bend your head so low! +Lorraine is watching you with searching eyes, +Before his gaze your poor heart quivering lies; +He still speaks on, his words are sure, though slow, +They find the truth he long has sought to know. + +Back from her face she sweeps the heavy hair, +And looks up with a proud, unconquered air; +Ah! few have wills like hers to do or die, +To hide each wound, to still each longing cry. +"Lorraine, the secrets of my life are mine, +You have no right to solve its mystery; +Why seek to penetrate my heat's design? +How sensitive a human heart can be, +You do not seem to know nor even care; +You tell me that you love, yet love is rare +And generous, its truth you ne'er can know, +If thus within the dust you trail it low." + +The night has come, the clouds are hanging low, +Their splendor gone, the wind begins to blow, +It shifts the clouds across the gloomy sky, +Now lashed to foam the troubled waters lie. +The sails are hurrying home, the sea bird flies +Around and round with frightened, screaming cries. +From rock to rock across the frowning hill, +And deep within the vale, a muttering sound +Of far-off thunder rolls along the ground, +A herald of the storm, then all is still. + +And yet they heed it not, "Arline! Arline!" +He cries with flashing eyes, "my peerless queen, +I cannot give you up, you must be mine; +You thrill my heart, your beauty divine. +What matters it though you have loved before, +You cannot love him now, that dream is o'er. +Look up, Arline, within your starry eyes +There lies for me the only paradise; +I care not for the heaven or earth below-- +If you are mine, what care I more to know? +A woman's love can make man what it will, +For love and thee my heart is throbbing still. +Oh! quick, Arline, for see on yonder height +The lightning circles round with flashing light, +It grows so dark--I scarce can see your face, +Give me your hand, I'll lead you to the place +Where waits my boat; before the storm comes on +We'll reach the farther coast, for I am strong +And young." + + His face is close to hers--she starts +And with a shudder shuts her frightened eyes; +A silence as of death--the storm-cloud parts; +A sheet of lightning flashes o'er the skies, +It blinds his eyes, then all is dark again. +Where is Arline? She is not there, in vain +His search--how fierce the storm, how black the night! +Another lurid flash--what fearful sight +Is this? Arline upon the ground, her head +Against the rocks, as pallid as the dead. +And look! on one fair temple lies a stain +Of blood, and on her dusky veil of hair, +The crimson moisture too--what cruel pain +The rocks have caused; and yet how pale and fair +She lies, unconscious of the rain and storm. +"Oh, God! what fearful sight is this to see!" +Half frantic he attempts to lift her form +Into his arms--but no, it shall not be, +For suddenly a hand is laid on his +With iron grasp; upon the stormy air +A voice rings out, "To touch her do not dare, +Or you shall pay the penalty of this; +If she is dead 'tis by your hand alone-- +One pitying thought your dark soul does not own. +Begone, or here beneath this angry sky, +Upon these rocks one of us two must die. +Ah! think you not, you fair-faced, proud Lorraine, +I know you not; and well I know the pain +You gave Arline; her lovely grace is far +Above you as the highest, holiest star +That decks God's throne; then go and leave her here, +For sacred as the dead she is to me." +'Tis Adrian--he drops upon one knee +And looks upon her face with dread and fear, +Then tenderly he wipes away the red, +Dark stains, and with a strong, yet tender grace, +Uplifts her to his arms. + + Her marble face +Lies close unto his own--he bends his head +And is he any less the man because one tear +Falls on that wayward face so proud and dear? +What thoughts are his! they parted long ago +To meet again, but how? Ah! who can know +What bitterness he feels--that slender form +Within his arms. Beneath the fierce wild storm +He hurries to her stately home, and there +Her followers wait with hushed and frightened air. + +Oh! can it be that she is dead, Arline-- +The idol of his heart, the world's proud queen? +No, no; it must not be, her white lids move, +She wakes once more to life and song and love. +The pale lips quiver with a sudden pain, +The lashes half unveil the eyes again. + +He gives her up, and leaves her to their care-- +When she awakes she must not find him there. +Oh! brave, warm heart, your love indeed is true, +You give your all though naught is given you. +True love is like the watching stars of night, +They shine for aye though eyes see not their light. +And Adrian, fear not, God hears your cry, +In His strong hand your fears and sorrows lie. + + + + + +Part V. +Love + + + + +And what is life?--a pleasure and a pain, +A vision of the sun--a day of rain. +And what is love?--a dream, a chain of gold +That turns to iron bands when love is cold. +What matters they?--the visions of our youth, +Through years of sorrow we must pass to truth. +A woman's life is full of longing days, +Her heart is not content to live on praise; +She must have more; a woman measures life +By length of love, a man by deeds and strife. + +Arline! once more we greet thy sunny face. +Once more behold thy noble, earnest grace; +But ah, how changed! the hopes of youth are dead; +Life's dark unrest has bowed thy proud young head, +And fame the mocking vision of thy youth, +Has led thee from the paths of peace and truth. + +With longing eyes Arline is standing now, +Her arms are folded with a weary air; +The same deep pride is written on her brow, +As once was there of old; her gold-brown hair +Is gathered back in careless waves of light +That hide a scar--the memory of one night. +Her eyes look down, her dark robes sweep the floor-- +She starts, for some one passes through the door; +She glances up--recoils with haughty pride, +Which all her self-possession cannot hide; +Then with a look of pity on her face +She meets Lorraine with kind, forgiving grace. + +"Arline, I would that I had died indeed +Before I gave thee pain, my heart has need +Of thy forgiveness, else I cannot live, +I crave the boon that only thou canst give." + +"Lorraine, the highest graces of a woman's heart +Are purity and truth, no cunning art +Can e'er replace these gifts; 'gainst sin and wrong +They are her surest safe-guards, and her guide +In life. With these she conquers man's dark pride +And wins the tributes that to Heaven belong. +To womanhood belongs forgiveness too, +And therefore is my pardon given you." + +With humbled pride he bowed his proud young head, +Then looking in her face he gently said: +"'Tis nobly given; if women were all like thee, +Arline, how many truer men would be +Within this world; for man will ever go +Where woman leads. And on this earth below +The grandest masterpiece of Nature's art +Must ever be a woman's sinless heart. +For thee, Arline, the passion of my life is dead; +The feverish dream is o'er, and in its stead, +There comes a reverence for all thy kind, +And thou, the noblest ideal of my mind. +And now I could not offer thee my love, +For like some pure and upward-soaring dove, +I see thee fly beyond my own weak soul, +To reach a nobler and far higher goal. +Yet, fair Arline, oh, with thy lovely grace, +Uplift my soul unto the realm of thine; +And with thy tender eyes and pitying face, +Oh lead to worthier deeds this heart of mine!" + +"Lorraine, each one must know the price of sin, +Each erring heart must know what lies within; +If we would live aright we must be true +Unto ourselves; I cannot govern you; +For ah! we may not read another's mind, +God puts there thoughts that we may never find. + +"We should not judge, for hearts indeed are weak, +And vain and selfish, are the ends we seek; +But each temptation, if we do not fall, +Will tend to make us stronger, all in all. +Think not thy way is right nor full of power, +For every heart must have its wayward hour; +And though men grieve thee with their outward sin, +Remember nobler thoughts may dwell within. + +"And now I thank you for your refeverent love, +And yet I feel you place me far above +My own right sphere. I am a woman weak, +As all proud women are, and soon, too soon, +I feel the world another queen will seek +To wear its crown of fame, and then my noon +Of life will pass as others pass away, +Unto the shadows of the dying day, +And like the foam upon the waves' bright crest, +My life will glide unheeded to its rest; +Like other hearts forgotten and unknown, +My own will wear itself away alone. +And yet"--and here the dark eyes flashed again-- +"The world shall never know its hidden pain, +For late, too late, I feel the world is cold, +It wounds the brow that wears its crown of gold. +Ah! many in the gay and passing crowd +Have thought me cold and even deemed me proud, +When, had they known the truth of that cold pride, +They'd known 'twas but my better thoughts to hide, +When 'mid the bitterness of worldly strife, +I felt for what I'd given my longing life-- +To wear upon my head a senseless crown, +On which in scorn my own true self looked down. +Oh, Fame! I chose thee with a girl's weak hand, +And now on life's dark shores alone I stand; +Too late I see the sad mistake I made +When at a worldly shrine my life I laid. +I thought to purify the world by song, +But ah! the world's too full of heedless wrong +For one weak hand to lead it back to truth; +It mocked to scorn my innocence and youth; +To nobler work had I my life but lent, +My restless heart e'en now might be content, +Oh, woman's life was never made for fame, +Her soul is burnt to ashes in its flame." +"You wrong yourself!" he cries at last, "untrue +Your words, for worldly hearts look up to you +And bless your song,--I know, for I am one +Of these, and know the good that you have done. +'Tis true, Arline, an earnest womanhood +Can always do unto the world some good. +One heart in truth has felt your better power, +And that is mine, in this last happy hour; +and have you nobler made even one weak heart, +You've done within this world a worthy part. +And many hearts, Arline, have heard your song +And turned away ashamed from sin and wrong. +No man, however dark his heart, could gaze +Upon a face like yours, where all is pure, +And not regret, oh! bitterly, his days +Of sin. If every woman would allure +By graces true as thine, there would be less +Of sorrow and of pain, and man would bless +The day that God gave woman to him." + + Her eyes +Are turned to him with eager, glad surprise; +"I thank you for these words," she says, "for true +I feel they are, and in my heart anew +I welcome hope. And we are friends again, +The past indeed is dead." + + A look of pain +Came in his eyes, yet with a new-born pride +He turned away, that look from her to hide. +"To-night I go, Arline, we meet no more, +Yet in my heart thy image will be there, +To soothe each wayward hour, to lighten care; +Thy simple teachings have unlocked the door +Of life's best thoughts to me, and if I grow +to better manhood, you have made me so." + +Upon her bending head and gentle face +A sunbeam fell and lit with mystic grace +Her dark, uplifted eyes, then quickly fled +To mingle with the sunset's dying red. + +A sunny face--a noble womanhood, +A heart's wild passion dead, a new-born pride; +One moment looking on her face he stood, +Then turned and went forever from her side. + +The twilight comes, the first-born child of night, +A warning monitor of time's quick flight; +A dear, enchanted hour, when all are near +We love on earth, and yet an hour of fear +When shadows of the past around us fall +And joy and hope have fled beyond recall. + +Within the twilight of the present day, +And shadows of the years now past away, +Arline is standing with a sad, sad air, +Her heart cries out with longing pride and pain, +"Oh, God! what mystery is this of care +And endless doubts; will faith ne'er come again?" +Oh, striving heart, no mind the problem yet +Has solved of life--'tis happier to forget; +When once the mind is roused to questioning thought +With endless misery it may be wrought; +The happiest minds are those that question not-- +To live in faith is mankind's fairest lot. + +And darker grow the shadows of the night, +She looks upon the sea, the distant height; +Upon the waves the ships go gliding by, +The lonesome clouds throughout the sky +Are wandering with brooding wings, and grim +And shadowy the far-off mountains seem; +Oh! Fame, where is thy joy? oh! love's bright dream, +Where is thy spell? life, like the night, is dim +And sorrowful. + + Low droops her young head fair, +Her whispered words steal on the silent air: +"Oh, what is life, my soul, when love has fled?-- +And every one that I have loved is dead, +Save one, and he--oh, must I say it now,-- +He loves me not, I dare not claim his vow. +Adrian, too late I prize thee--what is fame +When 'tis not shared with thee! No other name +Can touch me like thine own; but now, indeed, +Where is the love that answers to my need? +I had a dream amid the storm that night, +A vision strange--'mid flashes of the light +Methought I saw your face, your well-known form; +You held me close and safe from rain and storm, +Within the shelter of your arms I lay +And breathed no, lest the dream should pass away; +Oh, Adrian, it seemed as though a tear +Fell from your eyes upon my face, and dear +That mark of pitying love was unto me. +My hair seemed wet with blood--with dreadful pain +My temples throbbed, yet there with love and thee +I felt it not, nor heeded I the rain. +Too soon, howe'er, the vision passed away, +And I was left alone. + + "Oh! waves at play, +Mock not my hollow heart with songs of eve, +For olden days I evermore must grieve, +My own sad song forever must be still, +Of empty fame my life has had its fill. +Oh! heart be still, keep back your hungry cry, +Our griefs we all can conquer if we try; +Oh! soul shrink back into thy smallest space, +For thee the heedless world will give no place. +Oh! what is life when only shadows fall! +Oh! what is love, when love is past recall! +My laurel wreath unto the winds I fling, +For worldly praise I never more will sing. +Oh! tears, what do you here--keep back, I say, +Each human life must know a sunless day." + +Unto her breast her hands are tightly pressed, +She bravely struggles with the old unrest; +Yet lower droops her form, the lashes sweep +Across her cheeks. Dark memories seem to creep +Upon her heavy heart and weigh it down. +As shadows fall at night o'er vale and town; +And still and white as some pale form of death +She stands, with folded hands and faint drawn breath. + +But suddenly through the silence of the room +The one word "Hilda" pierces through the gloom; +A whispered word, yet see! it makes her start, +And sends the life-blood throbbing to her heart. +she turns--her face is stained with crimson o'er, +It dies and leaves her paler than before. +Oh, life is dark, and hearts are weak and wild! +With one faint cry she sees his longing eyes, +His outstretched arms, and as a tired child, +Unto that last, safe refuge quickly flies. + +Then presently her head droops low again, +She draws away--there comes a bitter pain. +"Oh, Adrian, my life has all been wrong; +I am not worthy now your love to claim, +My erring heart is selfish, and to blame, +To sorrow and to grief it should belong. +I left thee with a willful, proud design, +And cared not that a hopeless life was thine. +To give unto thy care, what have I now? +A worn and wasted life--a broken vow." + +"No, no! look up, Arline, bend not your head; +You wrong yourself--your life is good and true, +And pure the motive that your actions fed; +Life's highest meed of praise belongs to you; +Few hearts possess your true and earnest thought, +Else would the world with nobler deeds be fraught. +No man could look into your earnest eyes, +And claim that truth in woman never lies, +Nor could he gaze upon that lovely face, +And scorn again a woman's pleading grace. +I wonder not the world has worshipped thee, +For well thy beauty's spell is known to me. +A strain of music can awake the soul, +A kindly grace may touch the hardest heart. +Then weep no more, Arline--you've reached the goal-- +The world is better for your sweet-voiced art. +And, Hilda, had thy power not been good, +My love these years could never have withstood." + +Her face is turned to his with eager gaze +She drinks in all his words with ecstasy. +"Oh, Adrian, far dearer than the praise +Of all the world those words come now to me; +Yet tell me, Adrian, is woman's life +Naught but a shadowy dream--a pain--a strife?" + +A grave, sweet smile stole o'er his face, his eyes +Met hers with earnest look, yet half surprise: +"God knows the longings of each human heart, +And each assigns some noble, worthy part, +And they who seek will find; the battle's won +When thought is true, and duty is well done. +From world to world the deeds of man may fly, +Yet in each heart a woman's grace may lie. +Few men may comprehend her longing need-- +She lives in thought, he lives in strife and deed. +His boasted deeds may live but for a day +Her purity and truth will live for aye. +The man who claims a woman's hand and heart, +Knows not what boon he craves, what precious thing; +She gives her all--he only gives a part-- +She gives her freedom up and crowns him king. +'Tis true she murmurs not,--when love is there +No duty is too great, she feels no care; +'Tis only when that love is cold and dead +She feels the galling chains--the hand of lead. +And therefore do I say to you, Arline, +Of love, and not of fame, she should be queen. +'Tis love that wakes a man to woman's grace; +He first finds heaven when looking in her face, +He sees the trusting soul, the wealth untold +Of noble thoughts that God has written there. +Love binds his heart to hers with chains of gold, +And makes him comprehend the beauty rare +Of womanhood; 'tis this unlocks the door +And shows him truths he ne'er has known before. +Grieve not, Arline; your song has done some good, +An emblem of the true your life has stood. +Your aims were high; your art was truly grand, +Hearts nobler grew, Arline, at your command. +Then do not weep,--Oh, save those precious tears! +The light of heaven shines on the past few years. +And see! the shadows all have fled--the night +Is clear, the stars shine out, the moon's pale light +Is falling on your face; look up and know +The fading of the shadows 'neath the glow +Of night, is but the emblem of the rays +Of happiness that now shall gild your days." + +He takes her hand in his--and love's sweet thrill +Runs through her veins, vague dreams her sense fill. +Her face grows childlike in its faith again, +He heart yields up its wealth of doubt and pain, +Her soft, dark eyes reveal their depths of fire. +"For fame my heart has never more desire, +Were all our planets moons, night could not know +The glory of the day, nor evening show +The splendor of the sun--his light is best. +So, were each heart to worship at my shrine, +All filled with love, it could not equal thine, +For thine is more to me than all the rest. +Then, like the purple pansies, bending low, +That yield unto the sun their royal glow, +Unto the sun-god of my life and years +I'll yield my love, and know no idle fears. +The meteor has flashed across the skies, +Yet in its place a star of beauty lies; +Adrift into the azure seas above +That star shall sail on wings of hope and love, +While fame, the meteor that mocks the sight, +Shall die upon the earth--a faded light. +And now, for thee alone, my heart shall sing, +Far from my sight my crown of fame I'll fling, +And in its stead, the diadem I'll wear +Of love and womanhood--earth's crown most fair." + +Out on the terrace, where the moonlight falls +In silver radiance o'er the time-stained walls, +A man and woman stand--he, strong and fair, +She, lovelier than the flowers that scent the air. +Her eyes are velvety and soft and brown, +Her hair--a shimmering splendor falls low down, +Her dark robes sweep the marble floor; one hand +Is clasped in his; in silence now they stand, +No need of words when silence speaketh more +Than all the wealth of speech, or written lore. + +Her eyes are turned to his; no more they grieve; +Oh, who can tell the spell that love doth weave? +The music of the stars, a faint, sweet strain, +Floats down--an echo of their heart's refrain. +Two lives that glow as bright as heaven's own-- +Two stars, that in the night have closer grown, +God sets the music in each soul; no hand +But that of LOVE the music can command. + +The song of life is done--the tale is told, +God grant the chain may count some links of gold. +A woman's life--a man's true love--a song-- +What dreams of life may not to these belong! +The weaving of a story, old yet new, +Life's strange, sad mingling of the false and true. +A woman's heart is like a harp of gold, +It yields no music to the touch most bold, +But to the hand that o'er the chords may sweep +And gently wake the music from its sleep. +An idle dream a woman's life may be, +Yet do not dreams belong to thee and me? +To every life some visions must belong; +Are we to blame that they are sometimes wrong? +True women make true men,--'tis always so; +Yet careless touch may soil the purest snow, +The shadows of the night may hide the sky, +Yet still beyond them all the stars still lie. + + + + + +Miscellaneous Poems. + + + + + +To Longfellow. + + + + +The crown of stars is broken in parts, +Its jewels brighter than the day, +Have one by one been stolen away +To shine in other homes and hearts. +--[Hanging of the Crane.] + + +Each poem is a star that shines + Within your crown of light; +Each jeweled thought--a fadeless gem + That dims the stars of night. + +A flower here and there, so sweet, + Its fragrance fills the earth, +Is woven in among the gems + Of proud, immortal birth. + +Each wee Forget-me-not hath eyes + As blue as yonder skies, +To tell the world each song of thine + Is one that never dies. + +The purple pansies stained with gold, + The roses royal red, +In softened splendor shadow forth + The truths thy life hath said. + +Oh would the earth were filled with flowers + To crown thee poet-king! +And all the world unto thy feet + Its wealth of love could fling. + +And would I were one lowly flower + That fell beneath thy feet; +That even in dying I might win +One verse of music sweet. + +The poet-heart doth hold the power + To thrill the hearts of men; +And though the chain is broken quite + It joins the links again. + +No hand like thine can sweep the chords, + No heart like thine can sing; +The poet-world is full of song + And thou alone art king! + +Oh would my eyes could see thy face + On which the glory shines! +And would my soul could trace the thought + That lies between the lines! + +But though my eyes may never see, + My heart will worship still; +And at the fountain of thy song + My soul will drink its fill. + +Thy crown of stars will never break, + Its circle is complete; +And yet each heart some gem will keep + To make its life more sweet. + + +The following autograph letter was received from the poet: + +Dear Miss Sherrick:--I am much pleased and touched by the graceful +and beautiful tribute you have paid me in your poem. I beg you to +accept my best thanks for these kind words, and for the friendly +expressions of your letter, which I have left too long unanswered. +Pardon the delay and believe me with great regard, + + Yours sincerely, + + Henry W. Longfellow. + + + + + +Tower Grove. + + + + +Oh tell me not of the lands so old +Where the Orient treasures its hills of gold, +And the rivers lie in the sun's bright rays +Forever singing the old world's praise. +Nor proudly boast of the gardens grand +That spring to earth at a king's command; +There are treasures here in the far great West +That rival the hills on the Orient's crest. + +Far from the sight of the dusty town +Like a perfect gem in a golden crown, +Lies a beautiful garden vast and fair, +Where the wild birds sing in the evening air, +And the dews fall down in a silent shower +On the fragrant head of each beaming flower; +While far and near o'er the land sun-kissed, +Hangs the roseate veil of the sunset mist. + +Under the shade of the western wall +There's a glimmer of roses fair and tall, +And the crimson heart of each royal flower +Gleams purely forth from its leafy bower. +There are things in this world too sweet to last, +But we catch their grace ere the bloom is past, +And the roses that die in the early morn +In the garden of memory anew are born. + +The dear little pansies, quaint and fair, +Uplift their heads in the silent air; +And the gleam of the purple tinged with gold +Is as fair as the roses' velvety fold. +There are tropical plants from the Southern seas +Where the flowers sleep in the perfumed breeze; +And the scent of the orange groves fill the air +With a mystical incense rich and rare. + +Like waxen buds in a leafy screen +Magnolia blooms float in a sea of green; +And their fragrance falls on the dewy air +Like the breath of the tropics richly rare. +And up from the South in the voiceless night +Steals the scent of the blossoms pure and white, +And one by one as the winds sweep by +They shrink away, from that touch, to die. + +There are trees and flowers from every clime +Defying the scope of the poet's rhyme; +There are beautiful lawns where the feet could rest, +Unwilling to wander, forever blest; +There are peaceful nooks where the soul might dwell +Forever lost in a fadeless spell; +But the tomb of the man who is great and wise +Is the loveliest spot in this paradise. + +And just to the south is a park so fair +That the children of God love to wander there; +And the emerald green of its winding ways +Is flecked with the gold of the sun's last rays. +There are statues, too, of the good and great, +Who point on forever to Truth's wide gate, +And the bronze and the green and the sun's red gold +Are mingled at eve in a glory untold. + +Immortal the name of the man shall be +Who hath given these treasures so fair to see, +And the grace of the flowers he loves so well +The truth of his goodness forever shall tell. +But fairer than all are the deeds of love +That shine in God's temple of grace above; +And Fame on her beautiful shadowless height +Has woven his name in a glory of light. + + + + + +A Shell. + + + + +Oh, take this shell, this pretty thing + With tinted waves of pearly red; +Hold close your ear and hear it sing, + Then tell me what its voice hath said. + A song of surges deep and strong, + A song of summer sweet and long, + A sound of storm and wind and rain, + A sound of joy--a glad refrain. + +O plaything of the idle sea, + Whence come these changing tints of thine? +Have sunset clouds looked down on thee + And stained thee with their hues divine? + Oh, tell the secrets thou must know + Of clouds above and waves below; + Oh, whisper of the bending sky + And ocean caves where jewels lie. + +O beauteous sea-shell, tinged with red, + What dost thou know; what canst thou tell? +Unto what mysteries are thou wed, + Thou fragile thing, thou pearly shell? + A whisper of the sounding sea; + A sweep of surges strong and free; + A tale of life--a tale of death; + A warm, bright sin--an icy breath. + +Ah, more than this, thou lovely shell, + Thy years have gathered from the deep! +And, more than this, thy voice can tell + Of things learned in that ocean sleep. + A grave within the lonely sea; + A spot where love can never be; + A place where tears may never fall; + A lonely grave--and that is all. + + + + + +Two Pictures. + + + + +A beautiful form and a beautiful face, +A winsome bride and a woman's grace, +So fair and sweet it were heaven indeed +For man to follow where she would lead. + +A web of lace and a jeweled hand, +And life is changed by a golden band; +A dream of love and a wealth of gold-- +The old new story once more is told. + +A wealth of flowers and a robe of snow, +A beauteous woman with cheeks aglow; +A train of satin that sweeps the floor-- +And life is altered forevermore. + +A beautiful scene on this Christmas eve, +Where all could linger and none could grieve, +A dazzling vision of wealth and pride, +A royal feast and a happy bride. + +But turn your steps to the lonely street, +Where fierce winds mutter and wild storms beat; +And come with me to the haunts of woe +Where life is a burden and hopes are low. + +Look on this woman, so thin and white; +You close your eyes--'tis a dreadful sight; +But shudder not--she is cold and dead-- +And died, oh men! for a CRUST OF BREAD. + +So young and hopeless, oh! God above, +With none to comfort and none to love; +A tortured soul and a hungry cry +That rang unheard through the stormy sky. + +While, oh! so near in the gloomy night +Lay rescue and love and warmth and light; +And oh! so near to the longing eyes, +There gleamed the bright depths of a paradise. + +Oh! look on this picture, thou fair young bride, +For one poor morsel of bread she died; +One glittering gem from your breast or hair, +Could have saved this woman who lieth there. + +One costly spray of your flowers bright +Could have bought the food that she craved this night; +One drop of love from your boundless store +Her soul could have saved forevermore. + +Oh, sadd'ning picture, this Christmas eve,-- +For thy sad story the angels grieve; +To think in this city of wealth and might +A woman perished for BREAD, this night. + + + + + +The Queen-Rose--A Summer Idyl. + + + + +The sunlight fell with a golden gleam + On the waves of the rippling rill; +The pansies nodded their purple heads; + But the proud queen-rose stood still. +She loved the light and she loved the sun, +And the peaceful night when the day was done, +But the faithless sun in his careless way +Had broken her heart on that summer's day. + +She had bathed her soul in his warm sweet, rays, + She had given her life to him; +And her crimson heart--it was his alone-- + Of love it was full to the brim. +But a fairer bud in the garden of love +Had conquered the heart of the king above; +And the proud queen-rose on that summer's day +Had given a love that was thrown away. + +The pansies laughed in the summer breeze, + For they were so happy and free; +And the lilies swayed in the waving grass, + Like sails on an emerald sea. +But the sun glanced down with a mocking light, +And the heart of the rose stood still at the sight, +For never again with its love for him +Would her crimson heart be filled to the brim. + +"Ah me!" she sighed, as she drooped her head, + "How vain is my haughty will; +I sought to mate with the sun above, + But lo! I am mortal still. +I envy the pansy that nods at my feet, +For though she is lowly, her life is sweet; +And I envy the lily, for she is glad, +And knows not the longings that make me sad." + +A maiden sat where the pansies grew, + In a golden shower of light; +And she heard the words of the sighing rose, + Borne near in the wind's swift flight. +"Ah, rose!" she cried, "I am like to you; +There's never a heart in this world that's true; +I yielded a love that's thrown away, +And I'm weary of life on this summer's day. + +"But listen, my rose, and I'll tell you, sweet, + The lesson I learned to-day; +There's never a heart in this wide, wide world + That was born to be thrown away. +The sun may smile as he sails away +In the depths of his azure seas for aye; +But the rose that blooms in the garden of love, +Is as fair as the sun to our God above. + +"The smallest flower that slakes her thirst + In the dews of the early morn, +Is as great as the stars in heaven above, + The greatest that ever was born. +The love we give on this earth of ours +Is treasured in heaven through all the hours, +And the crimson heart of the proud queen-rose +Is as fair a gem as the earth-land knows." + +The queen-rose listened and held her breath + As the maiden passed her by, +And then, with a grace that was fearless and grand + She lifted her face to the sky. +And never again, when the day was done, +Did she long for the love of the golden sun; +For the lesson she learned on that summer's day +Lay deep in her heart forever and aye. + + + + + +Twin Lilies. + + + + +Twin lilies in the river floating, + Two lilies pure and white; +And one is pale and faintly drooping, + The other glad and bright. + +Twin lilies in the silvery waters, + Two lilies white and frail; +And one is ever laughing gladly, + The other, still and pale. + +Upon the peaceful gleaming waters, + They linger side by side; +And one, her head is drooping sadly; + The other glows with pride. + +Twin stars are o'er the river beaming, + Two stars with silvery light; +And now they look with glances loving + Upon the lilies white. + +Two lilies now are drooping lowly + Unto the river tide; +While in the wave the stars reflected + Are floating side by side. + +And now the stars are bending slowly + To kiss the lilies white; +Who e'en their fragrant heads are lifting + In wonder at the sight. + +And one twin lily now is longing + For light and heaven above; +And yields unto her star-king's keeping + Her wealth of life and love. + +And as the star-god bends in rapture + To kiss her pale, white face, +Her soul is wafted into heaven + Beneath his love and grace. + +Twin lilies in the tide were floating, + With quickly coming breath, +But one is left, with sad tears falling, + To mourn her sister's death. + +Twin stars upon the waves were gleaming; + Two star-gods pure and bright; +But one is left--that one is fading + And dying with the night. + + + + + +Memory + + + + +A treasured link of shining pearls, + A by-gone melody, +A shower of tears with smiles between-- + And this is memory. +A thing so light a breath of air + May waft its life away; +A thing so dark that moments of pain + Seem like some endless day. + +A careless word may wound the heart, + And quickly it may die; +Yet in the seas of memory + Forever it will lie. +And sometimes when the tide rolls back + Its waves of joy and pain, +That careless word, though long forgot, + Will wound the heart again. + +The restless seas of memory + Are vast and deep and wide; +And every deed that we can know + Sleeps in that tireless tide. +Upon the thoughtless lives of men + Its waves in mockery roll; +And sweep a might of bitter pain + Across each human soul. + +And few can stand upon the sands + Beside this boundless sea, +And say with calm unfaltering voice + "It has no grief for me." +The passing wave may bear away + Our deeds and words untrue; +Yet surely as the tide comes in + The wrecks will follow too. + + + + + +Moonlight. + + + + +Oh, what so subtle as the spell + The silvery moonlight weaves? +Oh, what so sad and what so glad, + And what so soon deceives. + +A vision of the long ago-- + Long years of pain between; +A mocking dream of happier days-- + A veil of silver sheen. + +A passing gleam of falling stars-- + An idle summer's dream; +The sudden waking of a heart-- + Things are not as they seem. + +Oh, silver moon, indeed you hold + The secrets of the heart; +And none can know and none can guess + The mystery of thy art. + +A silver length of rippling waves, + A glance from happy eyes; +A strain of music low and sweet-- + The heart in rapture lies. + +Yet, ah, how faithless are the vows + Made 'neath the summer moon; +As changing as the falling rays + That fade away as soon. + +For love is like the subtle spell + The sliver moonlight weaves; +And what so sad and what so glad +And what so soon deceives? + + + + + +The Star of Youth. + + + + +The sun sinks down in the crimson west, + Oh, a beautiful sun is he; +With his purple robes and his crown of gold + And his feet dipped in the sea. + +Along the shore where the sea-weeds lie + Like threads of her tangled hair, +Naomi stands in the amber glow + Of the mystical sunset air. + +Her hair is brown, with a yellow tinge + That rivals the gold of the west; +Her eyes are dark with the velvety glow + That darkens the pansy's breast. + +A star shines out in the purple east, + Oh, a beautiful star is he! +With his home in the wonderful azure skies, + And his throne in the deep blue sea. + +There are bars of gold in the crimson west + And jewels on every bar; +Yet Naomi's soul is beyond the sea, + And her eyes are fixed on the star. + +O star that shines in the dusky east, + Be thou the star of my youth, +And guide my soul through the shadows of earth + To the shining gates of truth. + +There are years that melt in the seas of life + Like drops in the ocean of time; +And the joys they bring are as soon forgot + As the words of a careless rhyme. + +Be thou the light that shall guide me far + From the years that vanish as rain, +And lead my soul to the feet of God, + Even through years of pain. + + + + + +The Day is Dead. + + + + + The day is dead, +And evening trails her purple robes + In fading fires of red. + + The day is dead. +And yonder lily welcomes sleep + And nods her weary head. + + The day is dead, +And night droops low her sable plumes + To mourn the glory fled. + + + + + +My Queen. + + + + + A fair sweet blossom is born for you, + A beautiful rose, my queen! + And never was flower so fair as this, + Oh, never so fair, I ween! +A banner is hung in the western sky +Of colors that flash ere they fade and die; +And the rippling waves where the waters run +Are stained with the gold of the summer sun; +The world is so fair for you, my queen, + The world is so fair and true; +And the rose that blossoms to-day, my own, + Is the love that I have for you. + +The grasses that spring at your feet, my queen, + Could whisper all day in your ear; +But I stand dumb at your side, my own, + Stilled by my love's own fear. +Oh, what would you know of my love's sweet will +The heart speaks most when the lips are still; +And the love that is filling my soul to-day +Is the beautiful blossom you throw away. +But I worship you still, my queen, my queen, + I worship you still, I ween; +For the loveliest blossom on earth I know + Is my beautiful love, my queen! + + + + + +The Song of the Brook. + + + + +Oh, what would you have, you splendid sun, + With your restless eyes of fire? +And why do you lean o'er the lilies pale? + What more can your heart desire? + +You've crimsoned the rays in the heart of the rose, + You've drunk up the dewdrops all; +And down in the meadows your golden light + Has gilded the daisies tall. + +The thirsty flowers that grow on the hill + Have given their lives to you; +And what do you care, you restless sun, + As you sail through your seas of blue? + +Your rays are so warm, like the glances of love, + The lily is mad with delight; +And whispers her secret with silent joy, + As she kisses my face in the night. + +What more can you want, O eager sun? + I've given my all to you; +I've counted my treasures and claimed them not, + What more can I ever do? + +But, eager sun, with your restless rays, + Know this, that I love not you; +For the sun that knoweth a world of loves + To one can never be true. + + + + + +Night. + + + + +'Tis eventide; the noisy brook is hushed +Or murmurs only as a tired child, +Worn out with play; the tangled weeds lie still +Within the marshy hollow. Quaint and dark +The willows bend above the brooklet's tide, +Reflecting shadowy images therein. +The dark-browed trees, with faces to the sky, +Shut out the light that fades in crimson lines +Along the western sky. And yonder shade +Of purple marks the cloud, the storm-god rides +In moods of angry fire. + + The woods are filled +With wild-wood blossoms drinking in the dew. +Their scented breath is sweeter than the maid's +Who stands at eve and drinks in love and hope +From every budding flower. + + All day the sun +With fiery breath has held his hot, long reign; +The leaves have quivered 'neath his burning gaze, +And all the flowers have drooped; yet now the moon, +His pale young bride, awaking from her spell +Of sweet day dreams, arises in the dusky East, +And sweeping back the clouds that dim her crown +Of stars, floods all the world with holy light. + +Oh, welcome night! the flowers love their queen! +Yea, better than their king, for he is fierce +And warm, and drinks the jeweled dew-drops all. +Her hand is cool and soothing! 'neath its spell +They sink to restful slumber. + + Bless'd night! +When all he world's asleep, and thought can fly +On tireless wings from sky to sky, when, free +From earthly chains, the soul immortal feels +Its throbbing freedom. + + Bless'd night! +When God looks down from every shining star, +And breathes in every dew-gemmed flower, when faith +From her rock-bound temple on the hills +His everlasting glory sings! Oh, welcome night! +Thy beauty holds the spell that wakes to life +All things immortal. Crowned be thou with light +Eternal as the sun whose radiance wakes the day. + + + + + +Sounds from the Convent. + + + + +"Come, pensive nun, devout and pure, + Sober, steadfast and demure." + + -- [Milton] + + +White-robed nun, I pray thee tell me + Whatsoe'er my life shall be; +Thou of God art purely chosen, + Ne'er can I be like to thee. + +There is sunlight in the shadow + Of the lives we live below; +There is starlight in the darkness + Of the night of human woe. + +Yet I pray thee, sweet-voiced woman, + Tell me of thy life and thee; +Can the soul to heaven given + Yield its secrets unto me? + +Nevermore the earth shall claim thee, + Only lilies bloom for thee; +All the world is full of beauty + That thy eyes may never see. + +On the hill the daisies springing, + Lift their heads to greet the morn; +Yet thou mayest not pluck the smallest + Of these blossoms lately born. + +Violets may bring no memories + Unto thee of days gone by; +Summer eves and joyous mornings-- + In the grave these, too, must die. + +Long ago, the roses drooping, + Crimson blushed and died for thee; +Yet to-day no more thou know'st them, + They are lost in Life's dead sea. + +Oh, the world is full of beauty! + Oh, the world is full of love! +Yet the chains that bind thee earthward, + Link thy soul with Heaven above. + +Through the windows creeps the sunlight, + Rays of gold and restless red; +Covering all the world with glory, + Sweetly resting on thy head. + +Would my life were crowned with sunlight, + Would my soul was pure as thine! +Then the world no more would know me, + Earth were Heaven, and Heaven were mine. + + + + + +The Lake. + + + + +A limpid lake, a diamond gem, + The moonbeams kissed with light; +And all the stars that heaven knew + Were mirrored in the night. + +How fair the world, how fair the night, + When lake and river run +Like jeweled streams of fairy land + Beneath a silver sun. + +The lake grew proud and claimed each star + That lay upon her breast; +"Ah! they are mine," she said; "these gems + That in my bosom rest. + +"And yonder moon, that sails on high, + Doth shine for me alone; +Beneath the foam that crests my waves + Is built her silver throne." + +A star-king knelt and kissed the waves + That swept the shadowed shore; +"Our moon is queen of heaven," he said, + "Is queen forevermore. + +A thousand lakes are hers by night, + A thousand lakes of light; +A thousand rivers kiss her feet, + A thousand rivers bright. + +"Then be not vain, thou lakelet small, + The moon is not for thee; +Her home is in the river wide, + Her throne is in the sea." + +The bright waves swept the silent shore, + The star-king crept away; +Yet calm and fair, still unconvinced, + The lake in silence lay. + +The moon, that swept her silvery light + Far o'er the waters wide, +Belonged to her, and all the stars + That floated side by side. + +Ah! silver lake, too well we know + How like we are to thee; +A thousand truths are in the world + That we may never see! + + + + + +Life. + + + + +A dewy flower, bathed in crimson light, +May touch the soul--a pure and beauteous sight; +A golden river flashing 'neath the sun, +May reach the spot where life's dark waters run; +Yet, when the sun is gone, the splendor dies, +With drooping head the tender flower lies. +And such is life; a golden mist of light, +A tangled web that glitters in the sun; +When shadows come, the glory takes its flight, +The treads are dark and worn, and life is done. +Oh! tears, that chill us like the dews of eve, +Why come unbid--why should we ever grieve? +Why is it, though life hath its leaves of gold, +The book each day some sorrow must unfold! +What human heart with truth can dare to say +No grief is mine--this is a perfect day? +Oh! poet, take your harp of gold and sing, +And all the earth with heavenly music fill! +You may do this, yet song can never bring +One sunbeam back, let song be what it will. +Oh! painter, you can catch the glowing light +That tints the skies before the coming night; +With throbbing heart and upward lifted eyes, +You paint the splendor of the purple skies; +Yet tell me, does your genius hold the key +To life's strange secrets and its mystery? +Oh! life is sad, yet sunshine, too, is there; +We cannot tell what spell the years may weave-- +Perchance a song that dies upon the air-- +Perhaps a shadow that the sun doth leave. + + + + + +A Memory. + + + + +Amid my treasures once I found + A simple faded flower; +A flower with all its beauty fled, + The darling of an hour. + +With bitterness I gazed awhile, + Then flung it from my sight; +For with it all came back to me + the pain and heedless blight. + +But, moved with pity and regret + I took it up again; +For oh, so long and wearily + In darkness it had lain. + +Ah, purple pansy, once I kissed + Your dewy petals fair; +For then, indeed, I had no thought + Of earthly pain or care. + +Your faded petals now I touch + With sacred love and awe; +For never will my heart kneel down + To earthly will or law. + +Your velvet beauty still is dear, + Though faded now you seem; +You drooped and died, yet still you are + The symbol of my dream. + +Sweet, modest flower, tinged with gold, + A lesson you have said; +Your purple glory, like my love, + Is faded now, and dead. + + + + + +The Baby's Tear. + + + + +A tiny drop of crystal dew +That fell from baby eyes of blue; +A shining treasure, there it lay +For grandma's love to wipe away. + +A tear of sorrow, pure and meek +It graced our darling's dimpled cheek; +A gem so fair, that angels smiled +And claimed the treasure undefiled. + +A sunbeam came with winsome grace +And chased the shadow from her face; +A smile fell from its wings of light +And baby eyes laughed at the sight. + +The wee bright tear was kissed away, +Yet in our hearts its sorrow lay; +For like a shadow came the thought, +With pain and sorrow life is wrought. + +Oh, baby heart, what will you do +When life's unrest is given you; +And mother-love no more like this +Each tear can banish with a kiss? + +The love you brought, oh, baby dear, +Is like the sunbeam passing near; +A ray of light--a touch of gold +To keep our hearts from growing old. + +Then may thy life grow strong and sweet +With mother-love to guide thy feet; +And may the sunbeams ever chase +Each shadow, darling from thy face. + + + + + +Irene. + + + + +The years are slowly creeping on + Beneath the summer sun; +Yet, still in silent love and peace + Our lives serenely run. +Beyond the mist that veils the coming years +I see no gathering clouds, nor falling tears. + +Beside life's river we have stood + And lingered side by side; +Where royal roses bloomed and blushed + And gleamed the lily's pride, +And happily there we've plucked the sweet wild flowers +while heedless passed away the sunny hours. + +Irene, thy sunny face is lit + With all the hope of youth; +God grant thy heart may never know + Aught but the purest truth. +Keep in thy soul its faith and trusting love +Until they e'en must bloom in heaven above. + +Beside the river still we stay + And swift the hours fly by; +While low upon the fragrant banks + The flowers silent lie. +Yet, far beyond the mist, our longing eyes +Still seek the gleaming walls of paradise. + + + + + +Unrecorded. + + + + +The splendors of a southern sun + Caress the glowing sky; +O'er crested waves, the colors glance + And gleaming, softly die. +A gentle calm from heaven falls + And weaves a mystic spell; +A glowing grace that charms the soul-- + Whose glory none can tell. + +Oh, warm sweet treasures of a sun + Of endless fire and love; +Those dying embers are the flames + From heavenly fires above. +Unto the water's edge they creep + And bathe the seas in red; +Then die like shadows on the deep + With glory cold and dead. + +A ship--a lone, dark wanderer + Upon the southern seas, +Speeds like a white-faced messenger + Before the dying breeze. +Her masts are tipped with amethyst, + A splendor all untold; +A crimson mantle wraps her round, + Her sails are made of gold. + +The light wind dies--she slowly drifts, + Then stops--an idle thing; +While sunset clouds around her prow + A dreamy grandeur fling. +And eyes upon her deck look forth + With looks of longing pain; +A hundred sunsets they would give + Dear home to see again. + +But see! a shadow as of night + Spreads o'er the crimson sky; +Like doomed and lifeless forms of earth + The clouds in heaven lie. +A silence falls--the ship stands still, + A fated thing of earth; +Then like a child of sin and wrong + The storm is given birth. + +Oh! struggle well ye gallant crew + With storm and wind and wave; +For there are helpless women here + And children, too, to save. +Quick--sailors do your duty well-- + And man the life-boats, too; +For soon the rocks will strand the ship, + And pierce her through and through. + +See! like a woman turned to stone + A weeping mother stands; +Her heart seems like seems like some frozen thing-- + She wrings her trembling hands; +Within her arms she holds a child + With frightened wond'ring eyes; +Below--the waters pitiless-- + Above--the angry skies. + +Beside her stands a fair young girl + With eyes that flash and quiver; +They are the only ones still left, + These three that moan and shiver. +But soon a voice shouts back the words-- + Through all the deaf'ning roar:-- +A strong hand grasps the trembling girl, + "There's room for just one more." + +"Stay, stay," she cries with whitened face + "Why should I fear to die? +Oh, take this woman by my side, + Nor stay to question why. +She has a dear one 'mongst your crew, + She is a mother, too; +I am alone--I fear not death, + If this you'll only do." + +The sailor grasped the mother's hand, + She turned and kissed the maid; +The tears of pity filled her eyes + Yet not one word she said. +The maiden stood with outstretched hands, + All hope indeed was gone; +And yet she stood with fearless heart, + Undaunted and alone. + +"Oh, God, the heart that knows your love + Will never need to fear; +A priceless gem lies on my face, + The mother's grateful tear." +The lightnings swept across the ship, + The darkness wrapped her round; +Above the thunder of the storm, + There came no other sound. + +The morning broke--the storm had fled, + The wreck was washed away; +And calmly now as yesterday + The sea in splendor lay. +The noble heart that throbbed with life + Lay fathoms deep below: +And what lies buried in that heart + The waves alone can know. + + + + + +Beatrice Cenci. + + + + +O beautiful woman, too well we know +The terrible weight of thy woman's woe, +So great that the world, in its careless way, +Remembered thy beauty for more than a day. +In the name of the truth from thy brow is torn +The crown of redemption thou long hast worn, +And into the valley of sin thou art hurled +To be trampled anew by the feet of the world. + +The beautiful picture is thine no more +That hangs in the palace on Italy's shore; +The tear-stained eyes where the shadow lies, +Like a darksome cloud in the summer skies, +Will tell thy story to men no more, +For all untrue is the tale of yore; +And the far-famed picture that hangs on the wall +Is a painter's fancy--that is all. + +Italia's shore is a land of light +Where the sunlight of day drowns the shadows of night; +And the great warm sun with his golden rays +Imprisons the light of eternal days; +But the tale of thy woes is a shadow there +That fills with its horror the perfumed air. + +By day and by night in the palace there, +Thy picture has hung with its face so fair; +Beguiling the travelers come from afar +With its sad, sweet grace, like some voiceless star, +Till the hears that shuddered before thy sin +Recalled not the shadow that lay within, +But remembered only with pitying grace +The hopeless grief on the child-like face. + +The rosy dawn with its misty light, +Shone fair on thy brow in the morning bright; +And the glittering noon with its rays of gold +Imprisoned thy soul in its jeweled hold. + +Oh, fair was the picture at early dawn, +With the matchless beauty that Guido had drawn; +And fair was the face in the noon of gold, +Touched with a glory that never grew old. + +But lovelier still in the shadowed eyes +Lay the burning sunset of Italy's skies; +And the beautiful face with its voiceless woe +Grew fair as a saint's in the crimson glow. +No wonder the poets grew wild at the sight, +And sung of thy beauty with mad delight, +Till the fame of the picture spread over the land, +Revealing the touch of its master-hand. + +The fair Madonna with saint-like face, +Creation of Raphael's exquisite grace, +Is scarcely more famed than the child-like head +Of thou to whom sorrow forever is wed. +O beautiful woman, the world with its scorn +Will mock at the glory thou long hast worn, +And rend aside in the name of the truth +The veil of mercy that hides thy youth. +But the romance that clings to the wondrous face +Will fall on our hearts with a softened grace, +And the fair young sinner on Italy's shore +Will be loved and pitied forevermore. + + + + + +Under the Stars. + + + + +Under the stars, when the shadows fall, + Under the stars of night; +What is so fair as the jeweled crown +Of the azure skies, when the sun is down, + Beautiful stars of light! + +Under the stars, where the daisies lie + Lifeless beneath the snow; +Lovely and pure, they have lived a day, +Silently passing forever away, + Lying so meek and low. + +Under the stars in the long-ago-- + Under the stars to-night; +Life is the same, with its great unrest +Wearily throbbing within each breast, + Searching for truth and light. + +Under the stars as they drift along, + Far in the azure seas; +Beautiful treasures of light and song, +Glad'ning the earth as they glide along, + What is so fair as these? + +Under the stars in the quiet night, + Under the stars above; +Sweet is the breath of the evening air, +Spirits of heaven unseen are there, + Weaving a web of love. + +Under the stars in the shadowy eve, + Glittering stars of truth; +Beautiful sprays of eternal light, +Laid on the brow of the dusky night, + Blossoms of fadeless youth. + + + + + +Catching the Sunbeams. + + + + +Catching the sunbeams, oh, wee dimpled child, + Gleefully laughing because they are bright; +Knowing, ah! never, my beautiful pet, + Ne'er can our fingers imprison the light. + +Beautiful sunshine, oh! fair is the light + Falling on earth from the heavens above; +Beautiful childhood, oh! glad is the sight + Filling the world with its measure of love. + +Playing with sunbeams, oh, all of us, pet, + Toy with the treasures, so shining and bright; +Catching the sunshine we never may hold, + Trying like you, to imprison the light. + +Sunbeams that glitter and sparkle and shine-- + Life is so full of the beautiful light; +Gilding the wings of each fleet-footed day + Only to fade in the shadows of night. + +Playing with sunbeams, oh! all of us, pet, + Long for the treasures so shining and glad; +Finding too late that they slip from our hands, + Leaving us heart-sick and weary and sad. + +Learning the lessons we never will heed-- + Life is so full of the things that we crave; +Catching the sunshine oh, darling, each heart + Longs for the sunbeams till it reaches the grave. + + + + + +The Soldier's Grave. + + + + +[To the memory of Lieut. Wm. W. Wardell, of the First Massachusetts +Cavalry, killed May 28, 1864.] + + +Above his head the cypress waves + Its dark green drooping leaves; +The sunlight through its branches wide +Where bright birds linger side by side + A golden net-work weaves. + +Within the church-yard's silent gloom + He lies in quiet rest; +And never more to cold, pale brow, +Or proud lips mute with silence now + Will loving lips be pressed. + +Perhaps even now in death's dark dream + He sees the deadly strife; +Where brothers fought with blinded eyes, +Forgetting all the tender ties + That bound them life to life. + +Ah! nobly there he proudly rode + With honest, warm, true heart; +And shrank not from the carnage red, +But bravely thee, among the dead, + He took a soldier's part. + +Yet soon his hands fell helplessly, + Low at his trembling side; +For on his brow the death drops rose, +While in his heart the life-blood froze + And died his young life's pride. + +The dark brown eyes, whose loving glance + Gave happiness to all, +Have closed their weary lids for aye +Beneath the sunset of life's day, + Where dark'ning shadows fall. + +Oh, weary years that still creep on + Adown the sands of Time, +Give back the loving tones of yore, +That haunt us here forever more + As echoing church bell's chime. + +And yet it cannot, cannot be + That hearts must ever grieve; +Above his head the shadows fall, +Yet still the sunbeams shine through all + And mystic splendors weave. + +And thus upon the grieving heart + That ever weeps for him, +The dark clouds fall, yet God's sweet light +Of faith still onward takes its flight, + Through shadows vast and grim. + +Oh! faint heart, with thy clinging grief, + Look upward to the sky; +For there, beyond the weary strife, +Where angels ever guard thy life, + There's One who hears thy cry. + +Within the "City of the Dead" + He only lies asleep; +And soon his hand will clasp once more +Thine own as oft he did of your, + With love's pure feeling deep. + + + + + +Beyond the Sunset are the Hills of God. + + + + +Gleaming folds of read and gold linger in the western sky; +Fleecy clouds of purest tint, mingle with the purple dye. + +Faintly to the dreamy mind comes the sound of earthly life; +Far beyond the shining banks, cometh rest from worldly strife. + +Through the sunset's misty veil, now we look with longing eyes, +To behold more beauteous sight than the evening's glor'ous skies. + +Slowly now the red banks part, showing what is hidden there; +Flushing hills of shadowy light, piercing through the dark'ning air. + +Like the rainbow's promise clear, God has placed His emblem there, +Giving life and trust to all, love unbounded, rich and rare. + +Glimpses of a life beyond come to each faint, weary heart, +And we long for that bright shore where the loved ones ne'er shall + part. + +Strange, that souls should still live on, hopeless with their hidden + pain; +When, would they but read the skies, heaven and hope would come again. + +Though the life be weary spent, evening brings the glory near; +And beyond the sunset's glow, grand the hills of God appear. + + + + + +Never. + + + + +Two dark-brown eyes looked into mine + Two eyes with restless quiver; +A gentle hand crept in my own + Beside the gleaming river. + +"Ah, sweet," I murmured, passing sad, + You will forget me ever?" +The dear, brown eyes their answer gave; + "I will forget you NEVER." + +Up in the leaves above our heads + The winds were softly dying; +Down in the river at our feet + The lilies pale were lying. +The winds their mournful murmur sent: + You will forget me ever? +The lilies raised their drooping heads: + We will forget you never. + +A spell hung o'er the numbered hours + That chained each thought and feeling; +My heart was filled with idle dreams + That sent my sense reeling. +Once more I murmured, "Well, I know + You will forget me ever;" +Yet still the same dear promise came, + "I will forget you NEVER." + +Ah, vain the words that we must speak, + Though we are still believing; +And subtle are the webs of fate + That love is ever weaving; +The dark brown eyes meet mine no more, + I am forgotten ever; +And mocking memory echoes now, + I will forget you NEVER. + +Beside the idle stream I stand, + Where flowers droop and shiver +And cold and dark it seems to me + This dreary, restless river; +For, sweet, your eyes are lost to me, + I am forgotten ever; +And only MEMORY echoes now, + "I will forget you NEVER." + + + + + +The Mississippi. + + + + +Where is the bard, O river grand and old, +That has thy praises sung, thy beauties told, +In measures lofty as the mighty pride +That lingers in thy deep and flowing tide? +And where the echoing measures low and sweet +That should thine own faint rippling songs repeat? + +The eyes of nature ever turned on thee +Watch o'er thy restless wandering to the sea; +The rosy morn awakes thee from thy sleep; +Along thy dusky waves her glances creep, +And o'er the weird dark shadows of the night +She spreads her sunny robes of morning light. + +The yellow noon comes too, with fiery eyes, +And all unwept the dewy morning dies; +Thy waters run in waves of rippling gold, +And all the rivers sacred deemed of old +Are not so grand as thee, nor yet so fair. +Amid the mists that fill the evening air +The sun droops low his golden head and dies, +Yet in thy depths his last glance ling'ring lies +and lights it with a royal purple glow; +Anon into a splendor falling low +Of crimson stains and gleams of molten gold +It changes, like great waves of fire rolled +Across the sky. + + The moon caresses thee +With rays of silver light as to the sea +Thy dark waves glide; and shadows long and wide +Reflect grim images within thy tide. +Pale stars that wander through the trackless skies +All night, glance in thy depths with glowing eyes, +And like a stream of silver flecked with gold +Thy waters run. + + O river, proud and old, +From snow-bound shores thy dark waves loosened run +To mingle with the waters of the sun; +And lo! from North and South, from East and West, +Companions come to aid thee in thy quest. + +Along thy shores great cities stately stand, +Sprung up beneath thy kindly welcoming hand; +Proud commerce lives upon thy sweeping tide +And palaces upon thy bosom glide. + +O Mississippi, monarch of the West, +What daring hand can quell thy proud unrest? +What human pen can paint thee as thou art, +The loved, the pride of every free-born heart? +Thou symbol of a nation strong and free, +Whose throne is on the land and on the sea! +What power is thine, what might is unto thee! +Though men shall die, thy waters still will be. + + + + + +The Prince Imperial. + + + + +Under the cross in the Southern skies, +Where the beautiful night like a shadow lies, +A fair young life went out in the light +To wake no more in the star-crowned night. + +Beautiful visions of life were his, + Visions of triumph and fame; +Longing for glory that he might be + Worthy to wear his name. + +Brave was his heart as he sailed away + Under the Northern sky; +Leaving behind him all that he loved-- + Stilling his heart's wild cry. + +Proudly his mother, with royal pride, + Stifled her last regret; +Steeling her heart--but her dream was in vain + For the star of his race was set. + +Surely the moon as he slept at night + Whispered his doom on high; +Surely the waves in their rocky beds + Mourned as he passed them by. + +For never again in the dusky night + Would the prince go sailing by; +Weaving his dreams with a boyish pride + Under the shadowy sky. + +Silent and cold in the morn he lay, + Slain by a ruthless hand! +Never to wake with his fearless eyes-- + Never again to command. + +Imperial mother--too well we know +The speechless depths of her awful woe; +For the bright young life into Eternity hurled +Was her only like to a sad, dark world. + +But mothers kneel in the silent night +To whisper a prayer to the Throne of Light, +For the beautiful woman whose head lies low, +Crushed 'neath the weight of its crown of woe. + +From sun to shadow her life has swayed +Like some wild rose in a mountain glade; +But the storms have won, and the blossom lies +Forever broken--no more to rise. + + + + + +On the Lake. + + + + +There's a beautiful lake where the sun lies low, +And the skies are warm with their summer glow; +And a beautiful picture there I see +Where the winds are warm and the waves are free, + And the waves lie still in the sun +As the flowers at night, when the day is done. + +You may sing of your silvery seas by night +When the moon looks down with a dreamy light; +And the stars shine out in the skies above +Like the warm sweet gaze of the eyes of love; + But the glow on the lake to-day +Is a glory that never will fade away. + +The beautiful lake is a sea of gold +And the beauty it wears will never grow old; +The trees bend down in the sun's warm glow +Till their branches meet in the waves below, + And the clouds in the far-off skies +Are mirrored anew where the sunlight lies. + +I love to float where the shadows lie +'Neath the matchless glow of the summer sky; +And I love to dream that these waves of light +Will never fade in the gloomy night: + But I know that the things I love +Are as far from my reach as the clouds above. + +Oh, the beautiful lake is a sea of gold +And the beauty it wears will never grow old; +The cloudlets of Heaven are mirrored there +In a golden splendor so bright and fair + That the soul is dazzled for aye +By the beautiful light of this summer's day. + +Oh, I love to dream when this life is o'er +We shall moor our boats near the golden shore; +And our sorrows shall drift from us far away +As the leaves that float in their idle play, + And the waves shall smile in the sun +When the night is over and life is done. + + + + + +Beyond. + + + + +Beyond yon dim old mountain's shadowy height, + The restless sun droops low his grand old face; +While downward sweeps the trembling veil of night, + To hide the earth; the frost king's filmy lace +Rests on the mountain's hoary snow-crowned head, + And adds to it a softened grace; the light +Which dies afar in faint and fading red + In purple shadows circles near. + + The flight +Of birds across the vast and silent plains + Awakes the echoes of the sleeping earth; +Of all the summer beauty naught remains, + There come no tidings of the spring's glad birth. + +Beyond the valley and far-off height + The birds in wandering do take their way; +Ah, whither is their strange and trackless flight + Amid the dying embers of the day; +Into the clouds that seek to veil the sun + They seem to float on strange bright wings of fire; +Beyond the shades that tell us day is done + They soar on spirit wings that never tire. + +Ah, strange, strange mysteries indeed are these; + To watch the sunlight fade and die away, +To hear the whispering of the dark pine trees, + To see the deepening shadows 'round us play, +And then to feel that all that 'round us lies + Is e'en beyond the knowledge of the soul. +We seek to grasp the truth, it quickly flies + And leaves us full of doubt. + + Around us roll +The spheres that light the way to heaven's shore, + And soon their lights will brighten all the sky; +And yet we dare not read their mystic lore + But only stand and wait and wonder why, +Beyond, beyond in deep mysterious space + They wander through the darkness all the night, +Each one within its own allotted place. + + The stars' dim course, the birds' lone dreamy flight, +Will ever fill our souls with doubt and fear. + We walk upon life's unknown shadowy shore +With wandering steps, while through the heavens clear + The stars their music sing forevermore. + + + + + +A Sonnet. + + + + +Sweet summer queen, with trailing robe of green, +What spell has thou to bind the heart to thee? +Thy throne is built upon the sun-lit sea, +Where break the waves in clouds of silver sheen +And oft at dawn like some resplendent queen, +Thou sittest on the hills in majesty; +And all the flowers wake at thy decree. +But now farewell to all thy joys serene; +The autumn comes with swift-winged, silent flight, +And he will woo thee with his fiery breath; +In crimson robes and hues of flashing gold +He'll clothe thee, and thy beauty in the night +Will take a richer glow. But wintry death +Will come and wrap thee in his fold. + + + + + +Under the Sea. + + + + +Under the sea, the great wide sea + That sweeps the golden shore; +What treasures lie beneath the waves + Forevermore! + +Ask of the winds, the sobbing winds + That toss the waves on high; +And fling the burden of their song + Unto the sky. + +Ask of the stars, the jeweled stars + That sleep within the tide; +Like golden lilies floating far, + And swinging wide. + +Ask of the clouds that drift at noon + In fadeless seas of blue, +And looking down see skies beneath + Of deeper hue. + +Up in the sky, the golden clouds + Will never make reply; +Deep in the sea, the jeweled stars + In silence lie. + +Under the sea, the great wide sea + That sweeps the golden shore, +Are secrets hidden from us now + And evermore. + + + + + +The Old Year and the New. + + + + +Low at my feet there lies to-night + A crushed and withered rose; +Within its heart of fading red + No crimson fire glows; +For o'er its leaves the frost of death + Steals like an icy breath; +And soon 't will vanish from my sight, + A thing of gloom and death. + +Ah! beauteous flower, once thou wert + My pleasure and my pride; +And now when thou art old and worn + I will not turn aside; +But gently o'er thy faded leaves + I'll shed one kindly tear; +That thou wilt know, though dead and gone, + To memory thou art dear. + +Before my gaze there lies to-night + A rose-bud fresh and fair; +And like the breath of dewy morn + Its fragrance scents the air. +This fragile flower I fain would pluck + With hand most kind yet bold; +And watch its petals day by day + Their shining wealth unfold. + +And soon 'twill be my very own + To keep forevermore: +This flower that bloomed for me alone + Upon a heavenly shore. +God grant my hands may guard it well + And keep it pure and fair; +For angel hands have gathered it + And placed it in my care. + +Then fare thee well, thou dying year, + Thou art my withered rose; +And on the stem where once thou wert, + Another flower grows; +Yet fear thee not, when thou are dead, + To thee I'll still be true; +And 'mid the joys of other years + I still will think of you. + + + + + +Easter. + + + + +Let all the flowers wake to life; + Let all the songsters sing; +Let everything that lives on earth + Become a joyous thing. + +Wake up, thou pansy, purple-eyed, + And greet the dewy spring; +Swell out, ye buds, and o'er the earth + Thy sweetest fragrance fling. + +Why dost thou sleep, sweet violet? + The earth has need of thee; +Wake up and catch the melody + That sounds from sea to sea. + +Ye stars, that dwell in noonday skies, + Shine on, though all unseen; +The great White Throne lies just beyond, + The stars are all between. + +Ring out, ye bells, sweet Easter bells, + And ring the glory in; +Ring out the sorrow, born of earth-- + Ring out the stains of sin. + +O banners wide, that sweep the sky, + Unfurl ye to the sun; +And gently wave about the graves + Of those whose lives are done. + +Let peace be in the hearts that mourn-- + Let "Rest" be in the grave; +The Hand that swept these lives away + Hath power alone to save. + +Ring out, ye bells, sweet Easter bells, + And ring the glory in; +Ring out the sorrow, born of earth-- + Ring out the stains of sin. + + + + + +May. + + + + +The world is full of gems to-day, + The world is full of love; +The earth is strewn with star-gemmed flowers + That fall from skies above. + +The sunshine is a stream of gold + That flows from flower to flower; +The shadows are but passing thoughts + That mark each shining hour. + +The pansy nods her purple head, + And sings a silent song; +Her life is full of sunny hours-- + The days are never long. + +The rose uplifts her sun-crowned head; + She is the queen of love; +Her eyes behold the hidden stars + That glow in skies above. + +There is a fragrance in the air, + A glory in the sky; +Oh, who would sigh for other days, + Or grieve for things gone by? + + + + + +Summer Rain. + + + + +Oh, what is so pure as the glad summer rain, +That falls on the grass where the sunlight has lain? +And what is so fair as the flowers that lie +All bathed in the tears of the soft summer sky? + +The blue of the heavens is dimmed by the rain +That wears away sorrow and washes out pain; +But we know that the flowers we cherish would die +Were it not for the tears of the cloud-laden sky. + +The rose is the sweeter when kissed by the rain, +And hearts are the dearer where sorrow has lain; +The sky is the fairer that rain-clouds have swept, +And no eyes are so bright as the eyes that have wept. + +Oh, they are so happy, these flowers that die, +They laugh in the sunshine, oh, why cannot I? +They droop in the shadow, they smile in the sun, +Yet they die in the winter when summer is done. + +The lily is lovely, and fragrant her breath, +But the beauty she wears is the emblem of death; +The rain is so fair as it falls on the flowers, +But the clouds are the shadows of sunnier hours. + +Why laugh in the sunshine, why smile in the rain? +The world is a shadow and life is a pain; +Why live in the summer, why dream in the sun, +To die in the winter, when summer is done? + +Oh, there is the truth that each life underlies, +That baffles the poets and sages so wise; +Ah! there is the bitter that lies in the sweet +As we gather the roses that bloom at our feet. + +Oh, flowers forgive me, I'm willful to-day, +Oh, take back the lesson you gave me I pray; +For I slept in the sunshine, I woke in the rain +And it banished forever my sorrow and pain. + + + + + +September. + + + + +Oh, soon the forests all will boast + A crown of red and gold; +A purple haze will circle round + The mountains dim and old; +Afar the hills, now green and fair, + Their sombre robes will wear; +A mist-like veil will dim the sun + And linger on the air. + +Already seems the earth half sad + The summer-child is dead; +And who can tell the dreams gone by, + The tales of life unsaid? +September is a glowing time; + A month of happy hours; +Yet in its crimson heart lies hid + The frost that kills the flowers. + +Life, too, may feel the glory near + And wear its crown of gold; +Yet are the snows not nearest then? + Are hearts not growing old? +September is the prime of life, + The glory of the year; +Yet when the leaves begin to fall + The winter must be near. + + + + + +October. + + + + +I would not ask thee back, fair May, + With all your bright-eyed flowers; +Nor would I welcome April days + With all their laughing showers; +For each bright season of the year + Can claim its own sweet pleasures; +And we must take them as they come-- + These gladly-given treasures. + +There's music in the rain that falls + In bright October weather; +And we must learn to love them both-- + The sun and rain together. +A mist is 'round the mountain-tops + Of gold-encircled splendor; +A dreamy spell is in the air + Of beauty sad and tender. + +The winter hath not wooed her yet, + This fair October maiden; +And she is free to wander still + With fruits and flowers laden. +She shakes the dew-drops from her hair + In one swift, golden shower; +And all the woods are filled with light + That gilds each autumn flower. + +But soon the frost-king's icy breath + Will chill her laughing beauty; +And she will waken in the dusk + Unto a sterner duty. +Ah! life is full of days like these, + Of days too bright to perish; +Yet death, like winter, claims too oft + The things we most would cherish. + + + + + +Falling Leaves. + + + + +There was a sound of music low-- + An undertone of laughter; +The song was done, and can't you guess + The words that followed after? + +Like autumn leaves sometimes they fall-- + The words that burn and falter; +And is it true they too must fade + Upon Love's sacred alter? + +From memory each one of us + Can cull some sweetest treasure; +Yet golden days, like golden leaves, + Give pain as well as pleasure. + +There was a sound of music low-- + An undertone of laughter: +The sun was gone--yet heaven knew + The stars that followed after. + + + + + +Autumn Flowers. + + + + +O crimson-tined flowers + That live when others die, +What thoughtless hand unloving + Could ever pass you by? + +You are the last bright blossoms, + The summer's after-glow, +When all her early children + Have faded long ago. + +Sweet golden-rod and xenia + And crimson marigold, +What dreams of autumn splendor + Your velvet leaves unfold. + +Long, long ago the violets + Have closed their sweet blue eyes, +And lain with pale, dead faces + Beneath the summer skies. + +And on their graves you blossom + With leaves of gold and red, +And yet--how soon forever + Your beauty will be fled. + +The frost will come to kill you + The snows will wrap you round; +And you will sleep forgotten + Upon the frozen ground. + +Your tints are like the beauty + The sunlight leaves behind, +And deep and full of sadness + The thoughts you bring to mind. + +Dear memories of the summer! + Sweet tokens of the past! +You are the fairest flowers + Because you are the last. + + + + + +Remembrance. + + + + +Why should we dream of days gone by? + Why should we wait and wonder? +Sweet summer days have come and gone, + The leaves are falling yonder. + +The wee sweet flowers we loved the best, + The king of frost has chosen; +And now the sun looks sadly down + Upon his darlings frozen. + +Ah! summer sun and autumn frost, + You are at war forever; +For all the ties that one would make + The other fain would sever. + +With autumn days remembrance comes + Of golden glories fleeting; +Of pleasures gone and sorrows come-- + Of parting and of meeting. + +Oh! summer days, why haunt us still? + Remembrance is a sorrow; +And all the dreams we dream to-day + Will fade upon the morrow. + +Each life has some sweet summer-time, + Some perfect day of beauty; +When flowers of love and leaves of hope + Are twined around each duty. + +But oh! the autumn-time will come, + Which fades each golden glory; +And life, when we are old and gray, + Seems but a sad, old story. + + + + + +Winter Flowers. + + + + +The summer queen has many flowers + To deck her sunny hair, +And trailing grasses, pure and sweet, + To scent the heavy air; +And upward through the misty sky + There is a glory too, +Of floating clouds and rifts of gold + And depths of smiling blue. + + +Yet winter, too, can boast a wealth + Of flowers pure and white; +A kingly crown of frosted gems-- + A wreath of sparkling light; +So bright and beautiful, indeed, + It were a wondrous sight +To see a world of fragile flowers + Sprung up within a night. + +And sometimes there are cast'es, too, + Of glittering ice and snow, +Piled high upon our window-panes + 'Neath curtains hanging low; +And they are like the castles fair + Our day-dreams build for aye; +A frozen mist that one warm breath + May quickly drive away. + +And yet, how beautiful they are, + These flowers of our breath; +That bloom when not a leaf is left + To mourn the summer's death. +And oh! how wondrous are the things + That God has given the earth; +The day that brings to one a death + Smiles on another's birth. + + + + + +Snow-Flakes. + + + + +I wonder what they are, + These pretty, wayward things, +That o'er the gloomy earth + The wind of heaven flings. + +Each one a tiny star, + And each a perfect gem; +What magic in the art + That thus has fashioned them. + +What beauty in the flake + That falls upon my hand; +And yet this tiny thing + My will cannot command. + +No two are just alike, + And yet they are the same; +I wonder if my thought + Could give to each a name. + +Unlike the fragile flowers + That love the sun's warm rays, +These snow-flakes love the cold, + And die on sunny days! + +So dainty and so pure, + How beautiful they are; +And yet the slightest touch + Their purity may mar. + +They must be gazed upon, + Not handled or caressed; +And thus we hold afar + The things we love the best. + + + + + +Sunset on the Mississippi. + + + + +O beautiful hills in the purple light, + That shadow the western sky, +I dream of you oft in the silent night, + As the golden days go by. + +The river that flows at my longing feet + Is tinged with a deeper glow; +But the song that it sings is as sad to-day + As it was in the long ago. + +The far-off clouds in the far-off sky + Are tinted with gold and red; +But the lesson they tell to the hearts of men + Is a lesson that never is said. + +The star-crowned night in her sable plumes + Is veiling the eastern sky, +And she trails her robes in the dying fires + That far in the west do lie. + +A single gem from her circlet old + Is lost as she wanders by, +And the beautiful star with its golden light + Shines out in the lonely sky. + +O beautiful star in the misty sky, + My soul would take wings with tee; +But you sail away in your golden seas + With never a thought for me. + +O sun-crowned hills in the purple light. + I could sit at your feet forever; +But you fade away in the shadowy night + And I'll see you again, ah, never. + +Dark river that flows at my longing feet, + I list to your music low; +But the song that you sing brings me thoughts to-night + Of the beautiful long ago; + +And my soul grows sad as I think of the day-- + That radiant day of light-- +When the sun went down in a glory of gold + 'Neath the pitiless shadows of night. + +Farewell, ye hills in the purple light; + Farewell to your glory forever; +You fade away in the silent night, + And I'll see you again, ah, never! + + + + + +Not Dead, but Sleeping. + + + + +[To the memory of Edwin B. Foster, a member of the Howards, who +nobly sacrificed his own life for others, and in remembrance of +those unknown to fame or friends who have silently followed in +the steps of our Saviour.] + + + +The shadow of death is around us all, + And life is a sorrowful thing; +For the winds sweep by with a mournful sigh, + And sad are the tidings they bring. + +He is dead--and the strong, brave life that he gave + Seemed offered to God in vain; +Yet he died, Christ-like, in a labor of love, + 'Mid sorrow and death and pain. + +And why should we sorrow--the crown is his + And the glory of life is won; +Though he died when his labor was just begun, + Yet the work of his life is done. + +The beautiful South is a land of death, + Where the shadows darken the sun; +And the moans of the dying are heard in the night + When the deeds of the day are done. + +The sunlight falls with a dreary gleam + On the cities where ruin is spread, +And the rain beats down with a mournful sound + On the graves of the silent dead. + +Yet high in the heavens a Hand is stretched, + That treasures the deeds of love; +And the lives gone out in the darkness below + Are wrapped in the glory above. + +The North bends down in her icy pride + And kisses the land of the sun; +Love joins them both in a flood of tears, + And the glory of peace is won. + +The hand that was dyed in a brother's blood + Now eases that brother's pain; +And the hearts that in life were driven apart, + In death are united again. + +Then why should we sorrow--our God is love, + And lives are not lived in vain; +Bright hope still shines like a star of night + In the shadow of death and pain. + + + + + +A Sunbeam. + + + + +The sun was hid all day by clouds, + The rain fell softly down; +A cold gray mist hung o'er the earth, + And veiled the silent town. + +Behind the clouds a sunbeam crept + With restless wings of gold; +The skies above were bright and warm, + The earth below was cold. + +It glanced along the heavy clouds, + Then sought to glide between; +But ah! they gathered closer still, + With fierce and angry mien. + +The dancing ray grew strangely still, + Just like some weary bird, +That droops upon a lonely shore, + And sings its song unheard. + +For on the earth the drooping flowers + Were longing for the light; +And children with their watching eyes + Could trace no sunbeam's flight. + +At last an angel, wand'ring by, + With snowy wings outspread, +Beheld the sunbeam sad at heart, + And passing by she said: + +"Why wait you here above the clouds, + The earth has need of you; +Spread out your wings, speed quickly on + And pierce the vapor through." + +But still the sunbeam mournfully + Gazed on the gloom below; +Then looked up in the spirit's face + With softened, anxious glow. + +The angel smiled, the clouds gave way + And drifted far apart; +And lo! the glory of that smile + Fell on each earthly heart. + +Then quickly through the widening rift + The sunbeam drifted down; +A ray of gold fell through the mist + Upon the silent town. + +Two weary eyes beheld its light, + Then closed forevermore; +A soul passed through the rift of blue + And reached the farther shore. + +One moment o'er the wan, white face + A ray of glory fell; +Then shadows came, the sunbeam fled; + Its future who can tell? + +Once more the clouds enwrapped the earth, + The rain fell softly down; +A cold, gray mist hung o'er the hills + And veiled the silent town. + + + + + +The Phantom of Love. + + + + +She stood by my side with a queenly air, +Her face it was young and proud and fair; +She held my rose in her hands of snow; +It crimsoned her face with a deeper glow; +The sunlight drooped in her eyes of fire +And quickened my heart to a wild desire; +I envied the rose in her hands so fair, +I envied the flowers that gleamed in her hair. + +Ah! many a suitor I knew before +Had knelt at her feet in the days of yore; +And many a lover as foolish as I, +Had proudly boasted to win or die. +She had scorned them all with a careless grace +And a woman's scorn on her beautiful face. +Yet now in the summer I knelt at her feet, +And dreamed a dream that was fair and sweet. + +The roses drooped in her gold-brown hair, +And quivered and glowed in the sun-lit air; +The jewels gleamed on her hands of snow +And dazzled my eyes with their fitful glow. +A river of gold ran low at our feet, +And echoed the words I cannot repeat. +Oh! life was fair that I loved the sun! +And love was so sweet when the day was done! + +The sun in her velvety eyes looked down +And deepened their glow to a warmer brown. +I loved this woman, this woman so fair, +With her sun-lit eyes and her gleaming hair; +I drank in her beauty as men drink wine,-- +It filled my soul with a love divine. +The touch of her hand was madness to me; +Oh, my love was as great as love could be! + +I kissed the roses that drooped in her hair, +I pressed the dews from her lips so fair; +I held her hands in my own once more; +Oh, never was woman so loved before! +And what did we care that the sun was low, +And the hills were bright with the sunset glow? +The purple that glowed in the skies above, +Was the royal banner of hope and love. + +One perfumed breath from her lips so fair, +One sacred kiss on her sun-lit hair, +And then we parted as lovers meet-- +I gathered the roses that lay at her feet, +And fastened them in, with a lover's prayer, +Where she loved them best, in her silken hair; +For the things she loved were as dear to me +As the shining stars to the watching sea. + +On lake and river, the sun lay low +Where we parted that night in the summer glow +And the hanging clouds were steeped in red, +That rivaled the gold of her sun-crowned head. +And I loved her best as I saw her last. +With the beautiful colors floating past, +And the soft warm light in her velvety eyes, +Reflecting the glow of the sun-kissed skies. +* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * +I stood on the shore when the moon hung low +And shone on the clouds like the sun on snow; +And a midnight silence filled the air +As I gazed on the river, calm and fair. +I stood alone where the dark reeds quiver, +And the lilies pale in the night-winds shiver. +I dreamed of my love that was fair as the day, +Oh, the beautiful love that would last for aye! + +Oh! what is that--in the river there-- +Is it the gleam of the lilies tall and fair, +Or only the branch of some fallen tree, +By the constant wash of the waves set free? +Oh, see! how strange it looks and how white. +How it glistens and gleams in the shining light! +It dazzles my eyes--Oh, what can it be? +It is nearing the shore--it is coming to me! + +My God! that my eyes could be blind to-night +To shut out forever that dreadful sight! +Oh, God! am I mad--or can it be +That the woman I loved is thus coming to me? +That bright thing drifting down with the tide, +Is all that is left of my beautiful bride! + +Oh, pitiless moon with your pale cold light, +Grow dark for one instant and shut out that sight, +Till my eyes, grown dim with the tears unshed +Shall look no more on the face of my dead. + +The pale lilies circle around her head +And whisper slowly--my love is dead. +The dark weeds lie in her tangled hair, +Where I last saw the roses gleaming there. +The cold winds shiver and moan in the night +As they sweep 'round her brow in the shining light. +Oh, God! is it I who am standing alone +Where the night-winds shiver and creep and moan, +Filling my soul with a grief so mad +That I hate the things that are living and glad? + +Fear not, my love, you shall welcome be, +For even in death you have come to me. +The dead and the living shall lie to-night. +'Neath the pitiless waves of that river bright. +I grasp her robe as it sweeps me by-- +We have lived together, together we die; +Her face is so white--is it a woman I see, +Or only a phantom drifting past me? +Her hand is so near--it touches my own-- +My God! it is gone--I am standing alone. + +Oh, why did I love when the sun was high, +And the clouds lay piled in the glittering sky! +Oh, why did I love when the sun lay low +And the heavens were red with the blood-red glow! +And why do I live when the purple light +Is faded forever from out of my sight. + +Oh, beautiful demon, that men call love, +As fair as the angels that smile above! +'T were better that men should never be born +Than see thy face in the dewy morn. +'T were better that women should stand afar, +And worship in vain some cold, proud star; +Than drink in thy beauty with passionate breath +That brings to them only sorrow and death. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg Etext of Love or Fame; and Other Poems + diff --git a/2491.zip b/2491.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c654fb2 --- /dev/null +++ b/2491.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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