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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf 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. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6d25201 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #68579 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68579) diff --git a/old/68579-0.txt b/old/68579-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 7e5d00f..0000000 --- a/old/68579-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2649 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of A spray of lilac, by Marie Hedderwick -Browne - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: A spray of lilac - and other poems and songs - -Author: Marie Hedderwick Browne - -Release Date: July 21, 2022 [eBook #68579] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Charlene Taylor, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The - Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SPRAY OF LILAC *** - - - - - - A Spray of Lilac - - _Printed by_ BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO. - - _London and Edinburgh_ - - - - - A Spray - of Lilac - - _And Other Poems and Songs_ - - BY - MARIE HEDDERWICK BROWNE - - LONDON - ISBISTER AND COMPANY LIMITED - 15 & 16 TAVISTOCK STREET COVENT GARDEN - 1892 - - - - - _Oh, lilac bloom! strange that so slight a thing - As thou is strong to roll away the stone - From memory’s grave, and set the dead past free - To claim again brief kinship with its own._ - - - - -PREFATORY NOTE - - -_Most of the Poems contained in this volume have appeared -during the past ten years, in “Atalanta,” “Chambers’s -Journal,” “London Society,” “Little Folks,” “The Girl’s -Own Paper,” and other serials._ - -_If an apology for venturing to offer them to the public in -collected form be deemed necessary, I can only urge the plea -of the poor but hospitable Dervish, “He is a generous host -who freely giveth his best, be his best but clear water and a -crust.”_ - - _M. H. B._ - -_London, December 1892_ - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - -A SPRAY OF LILAC 1 - -IN AN OLD GARDEN 3 - -A MOTHER’S GRIEF 5 - -A SUMMER MEMORY 8 - -UNSATISFIED 11 - -MY SONG 12 - -IN AN OLD CHURCHYARD 13 - -SECRETS 15 - -REVEALED--NOT SPOKEN 16 - -BURIED TREASURES 19 - -AFFINITY 20 - -“MY HOUSE IS LEFT UNTO ME DESOLATE” 21 - -AN OLD MAN’S DREAM 22 - -A SUMMER WOOING 24 - -WEE ELSIE 26 - -BIDE WI’ MITHER 28 - -CHILD ANGELS 30 - -MY LOVE OF LONG AGO 32 - -IN SUMMER TIME 34 - -TWIN-SISTERS 36 - -AT LAST 38 - -TRYSTING-TIME 40 - -BESIDE THE DEAD 41 - -HER FIRST SEASON 43 - -ANTICIPATED 46 - -WHEN THOU ART NEAR 47 - -A PORTRAIT 48 - -DOROTHY 49 - -DAFFODILS 51 - -THE BLACKBIRD 52 - -“WHOM THE GODS LOVE DIE YOUNG” 53 - -GRANNIE’S BAIRN 54 - -LOVE’S POWER 56 - -A JUNE MEMORY 57 - -A MESSAGE 59 - -HER WINDOW 61 - -SHATTERED HOPES 62 - -HAND IN HAND 64 - -“AND FOR THE WEARY, REST” 65 - -IN AN OLD ORCHARD 67 - -BY THE SEA 68 - -REGRET 69 - -WAE’S ME 70 - -THE REASON WHY 71 - -DOWN BY THE SEA 73 - -A VENTURE 74 - -WATER LILIES 75 - -THE SENTINEL 76 - -A LOVE SONG 77 - -AUTUMN 78 - -A QUAKER MAID 79 - -THE TIME, THE PLACE, THE BELOVED 81 - -DAY DREAMS 82 - -SONG OF THE SEASONS 83 - -ONE SUMMER DAY 84 - -THE INSCRUTABLE 85 - -DELILAH 86 - -A BABY’S GRAVE 87 - -A CHILD’S FAVOURITE 88 - -RICH OR POOR? 89 - -DOLLY’S GARDEN 90 - -IN A DREAM-SHIP 91 - -THE FLOWER-QUEEN’S FALL 93 - -A VETERAN 95 - -TO A BUTTERFLY 96 - -WHEN AND WHERE 96 - -WHEN LOVE IS YOUNG 100 - -A CHARACTER SKETCH 101 - -FRIENDS 102 - -BED-TIME 104 - - - - -_A SPRAY OF LILAC_ - - -Pale cluster, thy faint perfume comes to me - Laden with memories of long ago, -And all the present dims as o’er my soul - The waves of tender recollection flow. - -With Spring’s young blood again my veins are thrilled, - My hands are stretched to meet the coming years, -The world holds all the glory that it held - Ere yet mine eyes had looked on it thro’ tears. - -With deftest fingers fancy weaves once more - Her fairy fabrics; vast horizons glow -With fires of promise, for behind their veils - They hid rich treasures in that long-ago. - -The subtle sweetness of the vanished days, - The rapture of the old ecstatic bliss, -All, all are mine, as once again I cling - To ripe warm lips in love’s first passion-kiss. - -The long delicious Summer slowly weaves - For Autumn’s brows a crown of living gold; -Sad Winter follows with his winding-sheet, - For all the glory has grown grey and old. - -Oh, lilac bloom, strange that so slight a thing - As thou, is strong to roll away the stone -From memory’s grave, and set the dead past free - To claim yet once brief kinship with its own. - - - - -_IN AN OLD GARDEN_ - - -Yellow roses, purple pansies, - Tufts of heavy-headed stocks; -Either side the quaint old gateway - Blazing, torch-like hollyhocks. - -Sweet peas tossing airy banners, - Saintly lilies bending low, -Daisies, powdering all the green sward - With a shower of summer snow. - -Boxwood borders--yews fantastic-- - Wallflowers that with every sigh -Spill such scent that e’en the brown bees, - Reel with rapture wandering by. - -And the pear trees, long arms stretching - O’er the sunny gable wall, -Scarce can hold their ruddy nurslings - Ripening where the warm beams fall. - -Oh, the ecstasy of living! - How it thrills my life to-day! -I can almost hear the flower-bells - Tinkle where my footsteps stray! - -In a garden God first placed man, - There first woke Love’s magic thrill; -And methinks a breath of Eden - Clings to earth’s old gardens still. - - - - -_A MOTHER’S GRIEF_ - - -To a great wide city all alone, - Long, long ago went our baby queen-- -No name but hers on the white headstone, - That gleams to the moon from its mound of green! -None of her own did welcome her there-- - Not a grain of kindred dust doth wave -In the flowers that out of the tears of despair - Have arched a rainbow over her grave. - -Out from the shelter of loving arms, - Out from the warmth of a mother’s breast, -Heedless of darkness and night’s alarms, - On to the silent city she pressed -To take her place ’mong the mighty throng - That people its myriad streets. Ah, me! -I felt my God had done me a wrong, - When He loosened love’s cords and set her free! - -And my passionate moan that broke in tears, - Like a burdened wave on a desert shore, -Seemed all too feeble to reach His ears - And the pain grew old that my bosom bore; -But the faith that I once had thought mine own - Rose up to mock where it could not save, -And my heart grew hard as the carven stone - That was crushing my darling in her grave. - -Whenever a child’s sweet flower-like face - Met mine, a sickness would o’er me creep, -And I’d turn wild eyes to the lonely place - Where she was lying alone--asleep. -At strife was I with the world, and God - Had drawn around Him an angry cloud; -Earth held no green but the churchyard sod, - And the daisies wore the gleam of a shroud. - -But a time there came when about my breast - With a wand’ring touch small fingers stole, -And feeble lips to its fountains pressed, - And stirred with a vague sweet joy my soul; -And the floodgates opened, and blessèd tears - Of repentance fell from my eyes like rain, -And after the barren and prayerless years - I knelt to the Giver of All again! - - - - -_A SUMMER MEMORY_ - - -I remember an evening, - An evening in one far June, -The sun seemed loth to leave the sky - To a young impatient moon. - -The yellow sands lay waiting - For the sea’s long cool embrace; -We watched the ripples breaking, - Like smiles upon its face. - -The green trees nestled closer - To the broad breast of the hill; -The twilight’s glamour gathered, - And the day was with us still. - -And a sadness born of beauty, - And a joy to pain akin, -Touched all that lay without us, - And hushed my soul within. - -A silence stepped between us, - We seemed to stand apart; -Yet I thought your eyes grew tender, - And I know what filled my heart. - -But the words were never spoken; - And the distance wider grew, -Till the world of waves was lying - Between me, love, and you, - -No bridge might ever cross it. - I watched you turn away, -And I went back to duty-- - ’Tis all a woman may. - -But I never shall be nearer - The thrilling heights of bliss-- -Unless the next world gives us - The love we lose in this-- - -Than when in that far June-time, - We seemed to stand apart, -And I thought your eyes grew tender, - And I knew what filled my heart. - - - - -_UNSATISFIED_ - - -Oh, “dear dead days” that dearer grow, - I look behind, and thro’ my tears, - Across a wide, wide gulf of years, -I see you now and now I _know_. - -When I was yours, you mine, alas! - I did not know your real worth, - And, longing for the future’s birth, -Found time so slow, so slow to pass. - -The joys I hoped for never came, - While those I held slipped from my clasp, - As I stretched yearning hands to grasp -Shadows--’tis evermore the same! - -We strain dim eyes up to the stars, - Nor heed the blossoms at our feet; - Like puny birds we beat and beat -Our lives out ’gainst Fate’s prison bars. - - - - -_MY SONG_ - - -“When love is mine,” said I, “I’ll make a song - In praise of love that maketh life so sweet; -One worthy such a grand and noble theme-- - Worthy to lay at my belovèd’s feet. - -“Pure, perfect pearls of poesy I’ll string - On Music’s silken thread, so rhythmic-sweet -That those who hear shall feel as though each word - Were but an echo of my heart’s warm beat.” - -Now love _is_ mine; but where my boasted song? - My heart is full--too full, ah me! for words; -And yet methinks my new-found joy has lent - Fresh rapture to the voices of the birds. - -And I am dumb; the world will never hear - The music filling all this life of mine. -Oh! love is too sublime a theme for me; - I can but kneel in silence at love’s shrine. - - - - -_IN AN OLD CHURCHYARD_ - - -In one of England’s sweetest spots, - A little old grey church I found; - Around it lies--dear restful ground! -God’s garden with its sacred plots. - -With myriad arms the ivy holds - Its time-worn walls in close embrace: - So Memory sometimes keeps a face -Half-veiled in tender misty folds. - -With sleepy twitter and with song - The tower, bird-haunted, is alive; - In leafy seas they dip and dive, -Those tiny warblers all day long. - -Like sentinels grown hoar with age, - The crumbling headstones guard the graves - Which softly swell--green voiceless waves -That will not break though tempests rage. - -“Concerning them that are asleep” - In this sweet hamlet of the dead, - In broken sentences I read -The record those old tablets keep; - -Each told its tale, for hath not Grief - A voice whose echoes never die? - Adown the ages, Rachel’s cry -Still rings o’er some God-garnered sheaf. - -Mine eyes, ne’er prodigal of tears, - Did fill with such as seemed to rise - And drown the glory of the skies, -O’er those who’d slept the sleep of years. - - - - -_SECRETS_ - - -July roses wet with rain -Tap against the window-pane; -There is something they would seek, -Had they voices and could speak. -Silence seals their crimson lips, -And the dull rain drops and drips. - -Th’ other side the streaming glass -Stands a little sad-eyed lass; -There is something she would seek, -But a maiden may not speak-- -Silence seals her longing lips, -And the dull rain drops and drips. - -And salt tears in showers stain -Her side of the window-pane; -And the crimson roses grow -Pale as dreams dreamt long ago; -(Hearts may break behind sealed lips), -And the dull rain drops and drips. - - - - -_REVEALED--NOT SPOKEN_ - - -The little maiden that I love, - I met in yonder lane; -A flood of sunshine seemed to fall - Around her as she came. - -Methought the very hedgerows took - A tenderer, livelier green, -And blossoms burst from every bud - As she passed on between! - -And gladder, madder, merrier notes - A skylark round him threw, -As high above her golden head, - He poised amid the blue. - -I meant to tell her all my heart, - And yet--I know not why, -Upon the threshold of my lips - The story seemed to die. - -It might have been the witchery, - The magic of her smile, -That in a spell held all my soul, - And kept me dumb the while! - -It might have been that all too pure - For earth-born love seemed she; -From her white height of maidenhood - How could she stoop to me? - -But eyes can prove more eloquent, - And though the tongue may fail, -In potent language they reveal - The old, old tender tale. - -For, placing her slim hand in mine, - Methought I heard my name -So softly, murmurously breathed, - I scarce knew whence it came! - -No need for words between us now; - A subtle sweetness stole -Through all our being, and we felt - That soul had answered soul. - -And with the sunshine in our hearts, - The bird’s song in our ears, -We left the lane, my love and I, - To meet the coming years. - - - - -_BURIED TREASURES_ - - -’Tis true my later years are blest - With all that riches can bestow, -But there is wealth, wealth cannot buy, - Hid in the mines of “Long Ago.” - -There jealous guard does Memory keep; - Yet sometimes, when I dream alone, -She comes and takes my hand in hers, - And shows me what was once my own. - -I revel ’mong such precious things; - I count my treasures o’er and o’er; -I learn the worth of some, whose worth, - Ah me! I never knew before. - -And then all slowly fades away, - And I return to things you know, -With empty hands and tear-filled eyes, - Back from the mines of “Long Ago.” - - - - -_AFFINITY_ - - -But little converse have we held, - Our hands have scarcely ever met, -With just a formal word or two - You come and go; and yet--and yet-- -I have a dream we two were one - Ere garb of flesh these spirits wore; -The soul that speaks within your eyes - Tells mine they’ve met and loved before. - -And so I am content to wait, - Knowing the day will surely dawn -When, as the first man woke, you’ll wake - From your soul-sleep, and looking on -My face will know that I am she, - Your Eve, your other self, your fate. -Till then, till then, come weal or woe, - I am content, content to _wait_. - - - - -“_MY HOUSE IS LEFT UNTO ME -DESOLATE_” - - -A little while, you say, a little while, - And I shall be where my belovèd are; -And with your eyes aglow with faith, you say, - “Thy dear ones have not journeyed very far.” - -“Not very far.” I say it o’er and o’er, - Till on mine ear mine own voice strangely falls, -Like some mechanic utterance that repeats - A meaningless refrain to empty walls. - -“Not very far;” but measured by my grief, - A distance measureless as my despair. -When from the dreams that give them back to me, - I wake to find that they have journeyed there! - -“Not very far.” The soul surmises, hopes, - Has hoped, surmising, since the first man slept; -But, oh, the heart, it knoweth its own loss, - And death is death, as ’twas when Rachel wept. - - - - -_AN OLD MAN’S DREAM_ - - -With idle hands and misty eyes, - I sit alone to-night and dream; -Upon the hearth, like elfin sprites, - The red flames dance, and twist, and gleam. - -A dimness gathers in my room, - The pictured faces on the wall -Pale, and o’er each familiar thing - A strangeness slowly seems to fall. - -With noiseless step there comes to me, - One whom I loved in days gone by. -The same is she, unchanged by time-- - Unchanged--but oh, how changed am I! - -Her hair, which long, long years ago - Was like spun threads of living gold, -Still clusters round a brow that wears - Immortal youth--and I am old. - -No look of recognition lights - Her eyes, that meet mine o’er and o’er; -And yet she loved me once--and love, - I know, is love for evermore. - -She looks around in anxious quest; - I think I know for whom she seeks. -She only sees a strange old man, - With snow-white hair and wrinkled cheeks. - -And then like wings of birds that preen - For flight, a soft stir moves the air, -It is the whisper of her gown-- - She goes to look for me elsewhere. - -A sudden glory fills my eyes, - It is the firelight’s ruddy gleam; -Thank God she did not pass me by - I only saw her in a dream! - - - - -_A SUMMER WOOING_ - -A SONG - - -Up and away!--up, up, and away! -The hedgerows are foaming with blossom to-day; -Its bonfires the golden gorse lights on the hill, -And the wanton wind’s wooing wherever it will. - -Up and away!--up, up, and away! -The cuckoo’s name rings through the woodlands to-day; -The warm blood of Summer runs rioting through -The veins of each leaflet--then why not of you? - -Up and away!--up, up, and away! -There’s Passion and Poetry stirring to-day. -Half blinded with rapture, the heavy bees dart -From the lily’s white breast to the rose’s red heart. - -Up and away!--up, up, and away! -The old world’s begun a fresh courting to-day. -I wooed you all winter, but found you as cold -As the snowdrift that gleamed on the ridge of the wold. - -Up and away!--up, up, and away! -Your eyes tell me “Yes,” though your lips say me “Nay.” -The tears, so long frost-bound, are ready to flow, -And she melts in my arms, my proud maiden of snow! - - - - -_WEE ELSIE_ - - -O’ a’ the bonny wee bit lasses -That e’er I’ve kent, not ane surpasses - My Elsie. - -An’ oh, she has sic denty ways, -Auld farrant a’ she does and says; -Just watch the bairnie as she plays -“At mither,” dressed in mither’s claes! - -Like twa sweet rosebuds on ae stalk, -Her lips part in her guileless talk; -She hauds a key that wad unlock -Yer heart were’t hard as granite rock. - -Sae fearless are her een o’ blue, -They seem tae look ye through an’ through; -But though sae brave, an’ frank, an’ true, -Wi’ happy fun they’re brimmin’ fu’. - -Adoun her shoulders floats her hair, -Sae long, sae silken, an’ sae fair,-- -In truth it seems a verra snare -That’s caught an’ kept a sunbeam there. - -But better faur, those graces meet -Aroun’ a nature just as sweet; -Methinks the bairnie is complete -Frae wise wee heed tae willin’ feet. - - - - -_BIDE WI’ MITHER_ - - -Oh bide a wee, my bonny lass, -Nor seek to lea’ the auld hame-nest; -O’ a’ earth’s luvs ye yet will fin’ -A mither’s highest is, an’ best. - -She watched you like a rose unfauld, -She reads you like an open buik; -You scarce need speak, she is sae quick -Tae understan’ yer ev’ry luik. - -The han’ that aye fan’ time tae pat -The wee bit face sae aft turned up -For “mither’s kiss,” has workit late -An’ early for your bite an’ sup. - -An’ oh! it was a struggle sair -Tae mak’ twa unco scrimp en’s meet; -In her first days o’ weedowhood -She scarce could spare the time tae greet. - -Oh dinna lea’ her yet awhile; -The laddie’s young, an’ he can wait; -There was a time, when you were wee, -_She_ micht hae had anither mate. - -But she was feert he micht na be -As guid’s the fayther you had lost; -An’ though she could hae boucht her ease, -_She_ wad na’ dae it at the cost. - -An’ noo she’s auld an’ growing frail, -Your strong young arm should be her stay; -Life’s dounward slope is hard eneuch, -Be yours the han’ tae smooth the way. - -Oh, bide wi’ her, an’ you will fin’ -That duty done brings sweet reward; -The Maister, Christ, pleased na’ Himsel’, -Although He was creation’s Lord! - - - - -_CHILD ANGELS_ - - -Oh, there are happy angels - That go on missions sweet; -They have no wings to bear them, - Just little human feet. - -When I had grown aweary, - And all my faith was dim, -’Twas one of them that led me, - And brought me back to Him. - -When ’tween you and a loved one - There lay a widening breach, -And you were coldly drifting - Beyond each other’s reach, -A child’s hand ’twas that bridged it-- - A child’s soft, rosy palm -Held both your souls united, - And life grew sweet and calm. - -When sorrows closely gathered, - And heart and head were bowed, -The blue eyes of a baby - Made rifts in pain’s dark cloud. - -Oh, happy, earth-born angels, - Who go on missions sweet, -If ye had wings to bear you, - Instead of little feet, - -I fear me ye would use them, - Altho’ ye love us much, -To soar to Him who tells us - His “Kingdom is of such.” - - - - -_MY LOVE OF LONG AGO_ - - -There are faces just as perfect; - There are eyes as true and sweet; -There are hearts as strong and tender - As the heart that’s ceased to beat; -There are voices just as thrilling; - There are souls as white, I know, -As hers was when she went from me-- - My love of long ago. - -New lips are ever telling - The tale that ne’er grows old; -Life’s greys are always changing - For some one into gold; -But amid the shine and shadow, - Amid the gloom and glow, -She walks with me, she talks with me-- - My love of long ago. - -When I think of all the changes - That the years to me have brought, -I am glad the world that holds her - Is the world that changes not. -And the same as when she left me, - She waits for me, I know-- -My love on earth, my love in heaven, - My love of long ago. - - - - -_IN SUMMER TIME_ - - -Daisies nod and blue-bells ring, -Streamlets laugh and song birds sing, -To the clover bees close cling. - -Cornfields wave their locks of gold, -Poppies burn and wings unfold, -Earth-stars twinkle on the mould. - -Butterflies--live blossoms, blown -From that Eden once our own-- -Make of every flower a throne. - -And a royal purple dyes -Yonder heather-hill, that lies -Fitting footstool for the skies. - -And the gorse is all ablaze, -Lighting up the moorland ways, -And the days are golden days. - -E’en the myriad-mooded sea -(Earth-bound, yet than earth more free) -Wears a look of _constancy_. - -And your love, that in the spring -Was a shy, uncertain thing, -Like a bud just blossoming, - -With the summer’s growth has grown, -Till our two lives, lived as one, -Make a summer of their own. - - - - -_TWIN-SISTERS_ - - -Two girls--before me now they stand, -Twin tender rosebuds, hand in hand, -Fashioned as one--scarce known apart; -I see each face, God sees each heart. - -I look on ripe red lips, and eyes -That hold the blue of summer skies, -And hair like finest gold refined; -I see the beauty, God the mind. - -In womanhood’s first faint sweet dawn -Oh! they are fair to look upon; -Perfect from crown to dainty foot; -I see the bloom, God sees the fruit. - -What though a rose is each soft cheek, -If theirs be not that spirit meek? -What though their eyes are heaven’s own hue, -If never wet with pity’s dew? - -The plainest casket may enshrine -A gem that will for ever shine. -Oh, may this outward beauty be -But type of inward purity! - -God grant when Time its tale hath told, -And backward swing the gates of gold, -Before the Master they may stand, -Twin tender rosebuds hand in hand! - - - - -_AT LAST_ - - -She is waiting for his coming, - As she waited long ago, -Ere her sweet eyes were pain-haunted - Or her hair was touched with snow; -Ere that look of patient pathos - Downward curved her tender lips, -Or across her life’s young morning - Fell a shadow of eclipse. - -He is coming--but his footsteps - Know not now youth’s bounding grace, -And a world of sin and suffering - Is recorded in his face; -Airy dreams of high ambition - That he cherished in the past-- -All have vanished--and aweary - He returns to her at last. - -In the old familiar garden - Where he first breathed love’s fond vow, -With new hopes, like the new roses - Sprung from old roots, they stand now; -And the past is past for ever, - She forgives, and he forgets, -For the present peace has buried - Years of sorrows and regrets. - - - - -_TRYSTING-TIME_ - - -’Tis only when the wooing west -Has drawn the tired sun to her breast, -I seek my darling’s place of rest. - -In twilight-time we used to meet-- -Ah me, how lag our listless feet -When we have but a grave to greet! - -And yet, this daisy-dappled grave -So like a soft white-crested wave -Is all beneath the skies I have. - -On broken wings the years have flown, -Oh love, since in the long agone -I left you sleeping here alone! - - - - -_BESIDE THE DEAD_ - - -Touch not her hand, let not your tear-drops stain - The show-white purity of her dead brow; -Withhold your lips, their passion or their pain - Can thrill her nor with love nor pity now. - -The empty years that followed your farewell-- - The joyless dawns, the nights that brought no rest -Are ended,--and those weary eyelids fell - O’er eyes that had grown dim in one vain quest. - -Thank God for this; her woman’s faith remained - Steadfast, unshaken to the very last, -And with her idol undefaced, unstained, - To place it in a “niche in Heaven” she passed. - -But yesterday, your lightest whispered word - Had thrilled her heart, as spring’s first breath awakes -The rapture in the bosom of a bird - Till winter’s silence with a song he breaks. - -And I,--whose love for her was purified - In the fierce crucible of human pain, -Had felt that I was more than satisfied - If loss of mine had ended in her gain. - -For her soul’s sustenance you only left - The memory of a lightly plighted vow, -To take one kiss from those dead lips were theft, - The jewel was yours,--I claim the casket now. - - - - -_HER FIRST SEASON_ - - -Cloud-like laces softly float -Round a dainty snow-white throat-- -Fastened here and flutt’ring there -With a careless cunning care; -Blue-bells, blue as summer skies are. -Or her own sweet sunny eyes are, -Cluster close beneath her chin, -As if love--and not a pin-- -Kept them fondly nestling in! - -Gown of some transparent thing, -Like a dragonfly’s clear wing -Full of whispers vague and sweet, -Falls in white folds to her feet. -Light as moss veils drape their roses, -Round her flower-like form it closes-- -Every graceful curve it shows us. - -Silken mittens soft and quaint, -Of a shade æsthetic, faint, -Weave a jealous network o’er -Two pink palms that I adore; -And a musical mixed jangle -Comes from bracelet and from bangle -As it fetters each slim wrist -(Made but to be clasped and kissed), -With fantastic coil and twist. - -Hair a-ripple like ripe corn -Wind-kissed on a summer morn. -What, you say you see the glint -Of a reaper’s blue scythe in’t? -Nay, ’tis but a silver arrow -Wand’ring through a golden furrow, -Where the sun-shafts bore and burrow. - -Like a bright plumed bird is she, -From the home-nest just set free; -Knowing neither grief nor wrong, -In her heart and lips a song. -’Tis not I would wish to make her -Prim and drab-gown’d like a Quaker! -All fair things are beauty’s dower-- -Doth not God’s hand paint the flower? -(Youth is but a fleeting hour!) - - - - -_ANTICIPATED_ - - -Oh I have wealth, and could have placed - Upon your head a golden crown, -But Nature, having had my taste, - And being first, has set one down. - -I could have given you rubies rare, - And sapphires of a heavenly hue, -And pearls all shimmering soft and fair; - But here she’s been before me too. - -For ruby lips to you she’s given, - And strung two pearly rows between, -And sapphire eyes more blue than heaven - She’s dowered you with, my queen, my queen! - -I needs must be content to lay - My heart’s best treasures at your feet: -Without love’s gem, which shines for aye, - The fairest crown were incomplete. - - - - -_WHEN THOU ART NEAR_ - -A SONG - - -When thou art near no other face I see, - Thy voice is all the music I can hear; -My heart’s desire is granted unto me - When thou art near. - -When thou art near I am content, nay more, - I’m blest in breathing the same atmosphere. -To higher heights my aspirations soar - When thou art near. - -When thou art near, though yet I dare not lay - My lips on those I hold so very dear, -I know that heaven is not so far away - When thou art near. - - - - -_A PORTRAIT_ - - -A sadness lingers round her lips, - A shadow ever haunts her eyes; -Like dusky pools are they on which - The mystery of the moonlight lies. - -Her voice is sweet, but grave in tone, - No ring hath it of joyous mirth; -Yet somehow when she speaks, methinks - A benediction falls on earth. - -A sense of rest her presence brings, - She moves with such a quiet grace; -And ’tis the pitying soul within - Makes tender twilight of her face. - -Methinks the Virgin-mother must - Have looked like this when to her breast -The Babe, who was to save a world, - With mingled joy and pain she pressed. - - - - -_DOROTHY_ - - -Dorothy is debonair; -Little count hath she or care; -All her gold is in her hair. - -And the freshness of the Spring -Round this old world seems to cling -When you hear her laugh or sing. - -On her sunny way she goes; -Much she wonders--little knows, -Love’s as yet a folded rose. - -All her smiles in dimples die; -Glad is she, nor knows she why: -Just to live is ecstasy! - -Lightly lie the chains, methinks, -That have daisies for their links; -Youth’s the fount where Pleasure drinks. - -Dorothy is debonair; -Little count hath she or care, -Sunshine in her heart and hair. - - - - -_DAFFODILS_ - - -Oh, wild is the daffodils’ dance - To the tune that the March pipes blow, -Heads a-tossing--lances crossing, - Curtsies sweeping and low. - -Like waves in a flaming sunset - They tumble, and twist, and turn, -What tho’ from its slender pillar - Droppeth one golden urn? - -Short-lived is their joy and reckless, - Never a pause for breath. -Ah, well!--are _we_ too not whirling - As blind, in our “dance of death”? - - - - -_THE BLACKBIRD_ - - -When baby buds begin to shoot -Then hey! the blackbird’s golden flute; -All steeped in love seems every note -Let loose from his mellifluous throat. - -No wild rhapsodic bursts proclaim -What rapture thrills his tiny frame, -His heart is like a brimming cup, -Where pearls of joy keep bubbling up. - -The lark like some delirious thing -At heaven’s far gate may soar and sing, -But oh, methinks the blackbird brings -Heaven down to earth what time he sings! - - - - -“_WHOM THE GODS LOVE DIE YOUNG_” - - -Her voice is hushed, her hands are still, -I, from the summit of the hill, -Look down, and marvel at God’s will. - -Her foot was planted at the base -All eager for the upward race, -Her genius shining in her face. - -She felt the soul within her leap, -She yearned to scale the steepest steep, -And now--she’s fallen upon sleep! - -God knoweth best!--I must descend -The downward slope. Good-bye, sweet friend, -Life’s myriad ways meet in the end. - - - - -_GRANNIE’S BAIRN_ - - -When oor wee Elspeth’s in the hoose - I scarce hae use for hauns or feet-- -An’ after a’, why _should_ I fash - When she’s sae nimble an’ sae fleet? - -“I wonner whaur I laid my specs!” - The words hae haurdly left ma mooth -Afore I fin’, across my nose, - She has them set astride forsooth. - -She threeds ma needle, winds ma woo’, - Picks up the steeks that whiles _will_ drap-- -She slips aboot like some wee moose - For fear she’ll wauke me frae ma nap. - -Her wee three-leggit stool ye’ll aye - Fin’ drawn up close tae granny’s chair; -She learns her task an’ sews her seam, - An’ sups her cog o’ parritch there. - -An’ mony’s the lang crack we twa hae; - But whiles, sic puzzlin’ things she’ll spier, -The verra Meenister himsel’ - Waud be dumbfounded could he hear. - -She _has_ her bit camsterie turns, - But just eneuch tae show that she -Is no a being that is made - O’ diff’rent clay tae you an’ me. - -But that she’s no by-ord’nar wean - The neebors roon aboot agree, -And sae ye ken it is na just - Ma _ain_ opeenion that I gie. - - - - -_LOVE’S POWER_ - - -When you did leave me, love, -The whole world seem’d with you to ebb away, -And like a broken stranded wreck I lay. - -But you returned; and lo! -A fresh tide thrill’d my life’s deserted shore; -And Love was conqueror over Death once more. - - - - -_A JUNE MEMORY_ - - -’Twas June, the roses were reigning - In regalest splendour and pride. -Sweet peas, like butterflies tethered, - Were flutt’ring on every side. - -Like smouldering fires the wallflowers - Burned dull in the sun’s strong glow, -And the yellow bees, like meteors, - Went flashing to and fro. - -No lordly pleasaunce was it, - But an old-world garden wild, -Where purple-hooded pansies - And long-lashed daisies smiled. - -And there in June we parted; - And the sad years hurtle by -Like birds whose wings are broken - When they just have learned to fly. - -And I think,--Do you remember - In the life that’s yours to-day, -That garden and its glamour, - And the time that _would not_ stay! - -Oh, amid the faces around you, - Does one face never arise -And for a moment hold you - With the old spell of its eyes? - -Ah no! You men forget us, - And we!--we must be dumb. -And life’s June goes for ever - And the snows of winter come. - - - - -_A MESSAGE_ - - -In a little broken flower-pot - High up on a window-sill, -’Mid grime and gloom and squalor, - Grew a golden daffodil. - -It seem’d in the gloom of the alley - Like a sunbeam that had strayed -Out from the light of heaven - Into a land of shade. - -And close in a cage beside it - A skylark sweetly sang -Till all the narrow alley - With its wild rapture rang. - -And one poor weary sinner - Paused, as her wild eyes turned -To where, on its humble altar, - The flower-flame upward burned. - -And something stirred in her bosom; - ’Twas the heart that had long lain dead, -As the bird’s song rose from its prison - In the shadow overhead. - -God’s angels are birds and flowers, - And oh! methinks they preach -At times with a power and pathos - We men can never reach. - - - - -_HER WINDOW_ - - -Up the gable the roses creep, -Eager to get a little peep -Behind the curtain of snowy lace -That hangs, like a bridal veil, over the face -Of a shy wee window, whose panes glint through -A network of creepers, like eyes of blue. - -I needs must stand below, below, -And see them high and higher go -Till their lips are kissing the lattice sill, -And their tendrils toy at their own sweet will -With the casement, so full of tender charms -Since _her_ shadow has lain within its arms. - - - - -_SHATTERED HOPES_ - - -This morn upon the birken tree -The mavis carolled blithe and free; -But--ah, his song was not for me! - -Each wild note of his glad refrain -Pierced like an arrow thro’ my brain; -I could have cursed him for his strain. - -I saw the sunshine and the flowers, -Each proof of a Creator’s powers; -Yet dull and hateful were the hours. - -I cannot weep--the fever dries -The tears within my burning eyes-- -The past before my vision flies. - -Once more I feel his deep-drawn kiss; -Once more my being thrills with bliss; -Once more I melt with tenderness. - -I hear the trembling words that hung -Deep fraught with passion on his tongue, -Till heart and soul with pain are wrung. - -All nature smiles--and yet to-day -In memory’s grave I’ve laid away -My idol that has turned to clay. - - - - -_HAND IN HAND_ - - -Hand in hand through the flow’ry ways -Went Dora and I in the bygone days; -A wee girl she, her boy lover I, -Ready to fight for her and die. - -Hand in hand through this vale of tears -Went Dora and I in the after-years; -She was my wife and her husband I -Ready to fight for her and die. - -Hand in hand to the very last -As her dear eyes dimmed, and her spirit passed; -An angel is she,--alone am I -Ready, O, God! and I _cannot_ die. - - - - -“_AND FOR THE WEARY, REST_” - - -Of all God’s precious promises - The sweetest and the best -Is, that to weary laden ones - Who come, He giveth _rest_. - -’Tis not of glad Hosannas - And streets of shining gold -We think so much when we are sick - And sorrowful and old. - -Ah! there are times we feel too sad - To contemplate the joy, -The great and glorious themes of heaven - That angel-minds employ. - -And weak, and worn, and weary, - We long to lay us down, -Feeling we scarce could bear the weight - Of e’en a glory-crown. - -That He is “very man,” I need - None other proof than this,-- -That He has “rest” for those who feel - Almost too tired for bliss. - - - - -_IN AN OLD ORCHARD_ - - -Sweet avalanches of scented snow -Bury one deep, as I lie below -The laden white boughs abloom and ablow -In the dear old orchard, where long ago -My grand-dame dreamed, as I’m dreaming now, -With love in her heart and youth on her brow. - -O, blossom-time passes too soon, too soon! -And grey night follows the golden noon, -And Autumn though ruddy brings ruin and rune, -And passion ne’er warms the cold heart of the moon. -So let me dream on, ’mid the apple-blooms sweet, -For noontide and bloomtide are fair as they’re fleet. - -And then when the blue of the sky is o’ercast, -And Summer is ended, and harvest is past, -And the loosened leaves earthward are fluttering fast, -And the sleep that is dreamless is mine at last, -O, make my grave here; and lay me to rest -Where the sweet-scented snow shall fall light on my breast. - - - - -_BY THE SEA_ - - -I think, as the white sails come and go, -Of the welcomes loud, and the farewells low; -Of the meeting lips, and the parting tears, -Of the new-born hopes, and the growing fears, -Of the eyes that glow, and the cheeks that pale, -As the hazy horizon’s mystic veil -Is silently parted, and to and fro -The white sails come and the white sails go. - -And a grey mist gathers, and all grows dim -As I watch alone by the ocean’s rim. -For a dream is mine--ah me! ah me! -That salt with _tears_ is the salt salt sea. -O, yearning eyes and outstretched hands! -O, divided lives, and divided lands! -As long as the waters ebb and flow -Shall the white sails come and the white sails go. - - - - -_REGRET_ - - -“It might have been,” is the sad refrain -That forever haunts my weary brain, -Till heart and soul grow weak with pain. - -“It might have been,” are the words I hear -In the curlew’s cry from the lonely mere; -In the whisper of leaves when woods are sere. - -“It might have been,” says the sea’s long moan, -As if a breaking heart of its own -Wailed out in that strange low undertone. - -“_It might have been._” Ah, the hungry cry -As the leaden years crawl slowly by! -It will ring through my life till I die, I die. - - - - -_WAE’S ME_ - - -Aroun’ my bit bieldie the cauld win’ is soughing, - The dull rain is patt’ring amang the deid leaves, -The mist-wreaths are swirling about the grey mountains, - The wee drookit birds huddle close ’neath the eaves. - -Alang the bleak shore the lane sea gangs a sobbin’ - Like some wander’d bairnie that fain wad win hame, -Aye seekin’ an’ seekin’, an’ never yet findin’,-- - Sure man, in his pilgrimage here, is the same. - -The sky has nae promise, the earth hauds nae pleesure. - I look north an’ south, an’ I look east an’ west, -An’ I envy the folk i’ the kirk-yaird out yonder, - For there, ’mang the mools, there is rest--there is rest! - - - - -_THE REASON WHY_ - - -I ken the lassie’s winsome, - An’ blithe as she is braw; -But ’tis not worth nor beauty aye - That steal the heart awa’. - -Her cheek is like the wild-rose, - Her lips are like the haw; -But neither ane nor t’ither ’twas - That stole my heart awa’. - -Her locks are black as midnight, - Her brow like driven snaw; -And yet it was na’ these I vow - That stole my heart awa’. - -Her smile is like the sunshine, - ’Twad gar an iceberg thaw; -But ’twas na’ this by my guid-faith - That stole my heart awa’. - -Ilk lad’s lass the fairest is, - For Beauty kens nae law; -(Though _some_ folk maun be easy pleased - Wha’s hearts are stown awa’!) - -Ah weel! maybe the pearl I’ve foun’ - Is no wi’out a flaw! -But just because she’s her ain sel’ - She stole my heart awa’. - - - - -_DOWN BY THE SEA_ - - -O, mighty organ of a thousand keys, - O’er which the Master’s fingers ever stray! -I, listening, hear a myriad melodies - Played in the space of one short summer day. - -The long, low plash of little languid waves, - The sweet, sad dirge of softly dying swell, -The deep, delicious gurglings in the caves, - Hold music that this soul of mine loves well. - -Full as the human heart of mysteries, - Like it responsive to His touch alone, -For only He can wake the harmonies - Which sleep within thy bosom and mine own. - - - - -_A VENTURE_ - - -Her mouth looks like a scarlet flower - And I feel like a hungry bee, -I long to dart straight to its heart, - But--what would be the fate of me? - -The bravest ’tis should win the prize, - And yet I dare not risk her scorn, -And who but knows the reddest rose - May hide the very sharpest thorn? - -Yet who can tell but she might yield - Its sweetness up in one long kiss? -So I, who dare not risk her scorn, - Can risk still less to lose such bliss. - -And when she feels my parchèd lips - Athirst with long long years of drouth, -She will forgive me, that I sought - That dewy chalice, her sweet mouth. - - - - -_WATER LILIES_ - - -A fleet of fairy vessels - All freighted with pure gold, -The lilies lie at anchor - On the lake’s breast, calm and cold. - -Their soft, white sails, seem waiting - The zephyr’s first faint kiss -To waft them to another world, - More bright and fair than this. - -Methinks, it were no marvel, - If I should find, one day, -They’d drifted from their moorings, - And in silence sailed away. - - - - -_THE SENTINEL_ - - -“Tick! tick! tick!” goes the old clock in the hall; - The merry hours, the mournful hours -Alike he counts them all - As he stands erect at his post, - Time’s solemn Sentinel. - -All that he hath to say he saith, - And on, with never a pause for breath, -He hurries us nearer the day of death. -Though his warning voice is ofttimes drowned - In the whirr, as the wheels of life run round, -Yet, whether or no we _hear_ the sound,-- - -“Tick! tick! tick!” goes the old clock in the hall; - The merry hours, the mournful hours -Alike he counts them all, - As he stands erect at his post, - Time’s solemn Sentinel. - - - - -_A LOVE SONG_ - - -Upon a bosom snowy white - A little dimpled chin drops down, -While trembling shy lids hide the light - Of love, new born in eyes dark brown. - -A tiny timorous hand seeks mine - For shelter, fluttering like a dove; -And with a rapture half divine - I burn my kisses through its glove. - -June’s rosy treasures sweetly blend - Upon her cheek and modest brow, -But only Cupid’s self could lend - The crimson stealing o’er them now. - -Her voice makes music of my name, - A heaven of love is in her smile, -Her pure mind, like an altar-flame, - Burns clear and steady all the while. - - - - -_AUTUMN_ - - -Red as blood is Autumn’s gown, -And a flaming fire her crown. - -And her fingers sere and scorch, -Each one a destroying torch. - -Fever follows in her wake, -Nor the dews her thirst can slake. - -In her kisses there is death, -And decay in every breath. - -She makes tombs of what were bowers, -Strewn with corses of dead flowers. - -To the loftiest leaves that wave -She but whispers of a grave. - - - - -_A QUAKER MAID_ - - -Just a pair of green-grey eyes, - With a knack of changing -Like the sea, when shine and shower - O’er its breast are ranging. - -Just a pair of green-grey eyes - Each one a heart-breaker, -Who would think that they belonged - To a little Quaker? - -Prim her bonnet, drab her gown, - And she walks sedately, -With a sort of lily-mien-- - Drooping, and yet stately. - -And her voice sounds, oh, so meek! - “Thou” and “thee” and “thying,” -Yet the while those grey-green eyes - Seem to be belying. - -All these airs of calm repose,-- - This sad suit and sober, -Why _should_ Spring’s young sapling be - Brown-leaved like October? - -Gown her in the lilies’ white! - Crown her curls with roses! -Wreath her neck with daisy-chains! - Fill her hands with posies! - -Laughter-loving green-grey eyes, - Young limbs girt with gladness, -How they mock this dismal drab - Livery of sadness! - - - - -“_THE TIME, THE PLACE, THE BELOVED._” - - -You and I among the roses-- - You and I and love and June-- -All without and all within us - Set to one sweet happy tune! - -You and I among the roses! - Drowsy bees go blundering by; -’Mid the tresses on your temples - Little breezes swoon and die. - -You and I among the roses! - Overhead a sapphire dome; -’Neath our feet a sea of emerald, - Flecked with daisies for its foam. - -You and I among the roses-- - ’Tis for love the time and place! -What a world of rapture can be - Crowded into one small space. - - - - -_DAY-DREAMS_ - - -I am dreaming of you, belovèd, - In my home among the hills; -Your eyes meet mine in every flower; -Above the highest height you tower, -Yet the glamour of your presence - The lowest valley fills. - -I hear your voice in the river - That sings on its way to the sea; -And when the wind sweeps over -The low beds of the clover, -’Tis the breath of my belovèd - Its wide wings bear to me. - -I am dreaming of you, belovèd, - But though sweet these day-dreams be, -’Tis the deeper dreams of sleeping -That restore you to my keeping, -And so the world of shadows - Is the dearest world to me. - - - - -_SONG OF THE SEASONS_ - - -Sing, oh sing, ’tis summer time! - Sing it ’mong the roses,-- -Sing it till each sleeping bud, - Dewy-eyed, uncloses. - -Sing it through the woodlands, till - All the song-birds hear it! -Sing,--till every blade of grass - Finds a voice to cheer it. - - * * * * * - -Sigh, oh sigh, ’tis winter drear! - Sigh it through the flowing -Shroud that over earth’s dead breast - Falls in time of snowing. - -Sigh it through the bare brown stems - That once held the roses! -Sigh it round the grave, that o’er - Summer’s glory closes. - - - - -_ONE SUMMER DAY_ - - -The sky stretched blue above us, - The sea slept at our feet, -As still, as if its mighty heart - Had almost ceased to beat. - -A trembling hush seemed slowly - Across the earth to steal, -As when after benediction - The priest and people kneel. - -It was as though God’s finger - Lay on the pulse of life, -And stilled, for one brief moment, - Its tumult and its strife. - - - - -_THE INSCRUTABLE_ - - -A glad young girl amid the sunshine flitting, - Like a bright bird let loose from Paradise-- -A weary woman, in the shadow, sitting - With haggard face and dry despairing eyes. - - * * * * * - -The one in death’s dark chamber now is lying, - Stricken to marble her warm pulsing breast: -And God denies the luxury of dying - To the sad soul whose one cry is for _rest_. - - - - -_DELILAH_ - - -Why comest thou with those grand eyes of thine - To lure me as the cruel light the moth, - To my destruction.--Long ago my wrath -Cooled its white heat in pity’s depths divine. - -There was a time when full of bitter hate - I could have crushed thee--but that time is past, - And tho’ I needs must love thee to the last, -Tempt me not now--it is too late, too late. - -Apart for evermore our paths must lie, - Such love as thine can only bring a curse. - I would be better for my love, not worse, -So go while I have strength to say “Good-bye.” - - - - -_A BABY’S GRAVE_ - - -I could not lay her down to sleep - In a death-crowded place, -With grim black yews to keep God’s sun - From shining on her face. - -With softest greenest moss I lined - For her a little nest; -No crushing marble slab I laid - Upon her tender breast. - -Nor iron rails like prison-bars - Her sacred form enclose, -The sternest guardian of her grave - Is just a fragile rose. - - - - -_A CHILD’S FAVOURITE_ - - -Only an old wooden dolly, - With an arm and a leg a-missing, -The point of her nose rubbed off, I suppose, - Through too much washing or kissing. - -In a frock of faded satin, - With tinsel lace tarnished and tattered; -Her “coal-scuttle” bonnet holds, alas! - A head that’s a trifle battered. - -Oh, no, she has not lost her locks, - She _never_ had curls black or golden; -A doll’s wig was safely painted on - In the days that _you_ call “olden.” - -You laugh, and think her “too funny;” - Yet _once_ she was just as much cherished -As _your_ dolly is--by a wee girl - Whose dolly-days long ago perished. - - - - -_RICH OR POOR?_ - - -Only a string of cold white pearls, - Or diamond drops, like frozen tears, -Has clasped my lady’s slender neck - Through all the barren empty years. - -Only wee warm white baby arms - Have clasped _my_ neck thro’ the sweet years; -Yet she is rich and I am poor-- - Or so it to the world appears. - - - - -_DOLLY’S GARDEN_ - - -This is Dolly’s garden, - All her “very own,” -Every flower that’s in it - By her hand was sown-- -Never out of Eden - Were such blossoms blown. - -Like her eyes those pansies, - Deep and dark and blue-- -As her soul those lilies, - Pure and white and true; -Frail earth-flowers and fading-- - Dolly’s fading too. - -This _was_ Dolly’s garden, - Here I stand _alone_, -Dolly’s tending blossoms - Near the Great White Throne: -Dolly now has heaven - For her “very own.” - - - - -_IN A DREAM-SHIP_ - - -She sailed away one summer day - In a ship of shining shell: -Her cloak was a butterfly’s gauzy wing, - Her bonnet a big blue-bell, -Her bed was a lady’s slipper, - Her blankets the leaves of a rose, -And a cushion of thistledown had she, - Just to rest her tiny toes. - -With golden oars from the earth’s dark shores - She was borne o’er a silver sea; -And she never feared as the captain steered - For the land where she wished to be. - - And this was the song, - As they drifted along, -That she sang from the ship of shell-- - “Oh, we are bound - For enchanted ground; -It’s _there_ that the fairies dwell.” - -But a storm swept over the silver sea, - And the little maid awoke -As against the side of the fair frail barque - A cruel billow broke; -And she rubbed her eyes, and she pinched her arm, - And fearfully peeped around; -But instead of a ship “for fairyland” - She had boarded a “homeward-bound.” - - - - -_THE FLOWER-QUEEN’S FALL_ - - -A rebel rose climbed to the top of the hedge, - And watched the people go up and down -The winding highway, dusty and grey, - That stretched from the village away to the town. - -And an anger surged in her passionate heart, - ’Gainst the humble garden where she was born, -And her red lips curled at the old flower world, - And she cast around her such looks of scorn - -That the lilies drooped ’neath her withering glance, - And the pansies huddled together with fear, -And the poor pinks paled, and each daisy quailed, - And dropped from her lashes a big round tear. - -For of the flower-kingdom this rose was queen, - And never were subjects more loyal than they-- -And they fondly dreamed she was good as she seemed, - And because they had loved they were proud to obey. - -But lo! as she towered in haughty disdain - High over their heads, with an angry gust -The wind swooped down and tore off her crown, - And its jewels went whirling away with the dust. - - - - -_A VETERAN_ - - -In his niche in the hall, the old clock stands, -But hushed is his voice, and still are his hands. -He ceased from his labours long years ago, -And he’s only a “pensioner” now, you know. - -He did his duty as long as he could, -For a brave heart beat in his breast of wood, -And you could depend on _all_ he said -Till age, at last, turned him queer in the head. - -With a visor of glass o’er his grim old face, -In his armour,--a straight, stiff, oaken case, -He “stands at ease” in his sentry box, -And leaves time-telling to younger clocks. - - - - -_TO A BUTTERFLY_ - - -Butterfly, O butterfly, - With gaily-jewelled wings, -You make me think of fairy folk - And of enchanted things. - -You once were held a prisoner - In a castle grim and grey-- -A “chrysalis” folk called it-- - But you escaped away. - -And now you flutter ’mong the flowers, - A restless roving elf, -Or fold your wings and lie so still-- - A very flower yourself. - -Or hoisting high two gauzy sails, - You softly float away, -Just like a tiny fairy barque - Bound for a fairy bay. - -The bees must work, the birds must sing, - The flowers yield perfumes rare; -But you were born a trifler, - Frail thing of light and air! - - - - -_WHEN AND WHERE_ - - -I wonder “when” and I wonder “where” - The Angel of Death will come, -And, laying a finger on lids and lips, - Will strike me blind and dumb. - -I wonder “when” and I wonder “where”! - Like the skeleton at the feast, -’Mid laughter and mirth this thought finds birth - Where it is welcome least. - -I wonder “when” and I wonder “where”-- - In my prime or old age hoar, -At home, with my loved ones round my bed, - Or alone on an alien shore. - -I wonder “when” and I wonder “where!” - Is God not over all? -He knows the time and He knows the place - Who marks a sparrow’s fall. - - - - -_WHEN LOVE IS YOUNG_ - - -The red and russet of Autumn die, -In the lap of winter their ashes lie, -And the earth is wan and grey the sky. - -But the noon of a wondrous joy is mine, -And my pulses thrill with the glowing wine -That flows from the grape of Love’s deathless vine. - -What care have I that the brown stems bear -Nor leaf nor bloom, and the mad winds tear -The last poor tatters the forests wear? - -Is not the heart in mine own glad breast -A garden of roses, a haven of rest, -A bird that has builded a warm love-nest? - - - - -_A CHARACTER SKETCH_ - - -Womanly-sweet in all her ways, -Slow to condemn, and swift to praise; -Ready to help in hour of need, -Generous in thought as well as deed. - -Pitiful, tender, yet firm and strong -To uphold the right and put down wrong; -Never a thought of self or gain, -Proud of her God-given gifts--not vain. - -Laughter-loving, and fond of fun, -When the “daily round” and task are done; -Modest and maidenly, yet no prude; -Perfect enough, but not “too good.” - -Half an angel, yet wholly human; -No ideal--a living woman. - - - - -_FRIENDS_ - - -We are such friends, my little girl and I, - That, though her summers number scarcely nine -I need none other, as I go my ways - With her small fingers closely clasping mine. - -A little world we two make of our own, - And people it with all things fair and sweet; -The stars that twinkle overhead at night - Drop down at dawn in daisies at our feet. - -My smiles are hers;--my tears are all my own, - I keep my sighs and give her all my song, -Because she is so trusting and so weak - I feel that I can suffer and be strong. - -The while I try to keep the narrow way, - ’Tis wide enough for both. And my white dove, -With untried wings, knows little love but this, - That “Mother” is another name for “Love.” - - - - -_BED-TIME_ - - -The sleepy daisies have said “Good night,” -And tied up their wee frilled nightcaps tight. -The summer day’s been hot and long -And daisies, although they are so strong, -Are always tired and ready for bed -Ere the stars, heaven’s daisies, awake o’erhead. - -The roses have rocked themselves to sleep. -Awake they could no longer keep-- -They’ve been astir since the dawn of day, -Sighing their sweet perfume away, -And feeding the hungry beggar bees -That never say “thanks” nor “if you please!” - -And, baby darling, ’tis time that you -Had shut your drowsy eyes of blue-- -Wee busy hands, wee busy feet -Must rest sometime, you know, my sweet-- -The flower-bells _all_ have chimed “Good night.” -They’ll ring to wake you with the light. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SPRAY OF LILAC *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: A spray of lilac</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em;'>and other poems and songs</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Marie Hedderwick Browne</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: July 21, 2022 [eBook #68579]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Charlene Taylor, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SPRAY OF LILAC ***</div> -<hr class="full" /> - -<div class="c"> -<a href="images/cover.jpg"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" height="500" alt="[The -image of the book's cover is unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p class="c">A Spray of Lilac<br /><br /><br /> -<small> -<i>Printed by</i> <span class="smcap">Ballantyne, Hanson and Co.</span><br /> -<i>London and Edinburgh</i><br /></small> -</p> - -<div class="c/blk"> -<h1><span style="margin-right: 3em;">A Spray</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 3em;">of Lilac</span></h1> - -<p class="c"><i>And Other Poems and Songs</i><br /> -<br /><br /> -<small>BY</small><br /> -MARIE HEDDERWICK BROWNE<br /> -<br /><br /> -LONDON<br /> -ISBISTER AND COMPANY <span class="smcap">Limited</span><br /> -15 & 16 TAVISTOCK STREET COVENT GARDEN<br /> -1892<br /> -</p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>Oh, lilac bloom! strange that so slight a thing</i><br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>As thou is strong to roll away the stone</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>From memory’s grave, and set the dead past free</i><br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>To claim again brief kinship with its own.</i><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="PREFATORY_NOTE"></a>PREFATORY NOTE</h2> - -<p><i>Most of the Poems contained in this volume have appeared during the -past ten years, in “Atalanta,” “Chambers’s Journal,” “London Society,” -“Little Folks,” “The Girl’s Own Paper,” and other serials.</i></p> - -<p><i>If an apology for venturing to offer them to the public in collected -form be deemed necessary, I can only urge the plea of the poor but -hospitable Dervish, “He is a generous host who freely giveth his best, -be his best but clear water and a crust.”</i></p> - -<p class="r"> -<i>M. H. B.</i><br /> -</p> - -<p><i>London, December 1892</i></p> - -<h2><a id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table> -<tr><td> </td><td class="rt"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_SPRAY_OF_LILAC">A SPRAY OF LILAC</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_1">1</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#IN_AN_OLD_GARDEN">OLD GARDEN</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_3">3</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_MOTHERS_GRIEF">A MOTHER’S GRIEF</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_5">5</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_SUMMER_MEMORY">A SUMMER MEMORY</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_8">8</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#UNSATISFIED">UNSATISFIED</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_11">11</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MY_SONG">MY SONG</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_12">12</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#IN_AN_OLD_CHURCHYARD">IN AN OLD CHURCHYARD</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_13">13</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SECRETS">SECRETS</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_15">15</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#REVEALED_NOT_SPOKEN">REVEALED—NOT SPOKEN</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_16">16</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#BURIED_TREASURES">BURIED TREASURES</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_19">19</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AFFINITY">AFFINITY</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_20">20</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MY_HOUSE_IS_LEFT_UNTO_ME_DESOLATE">“MY HOUSE IS LEFT UNTO ME DESOLATE”</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_21">21</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AN_OLD_MANS_DREAM">AN OLD MAN’S DREAM</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_22">22</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_SUMMER_WOOING">A SUMMER WOOING</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_24">24</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#WEE_ELSIE">WEE ELSIE</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_26">26</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#BIDE_WI_MITHER">BIDE WI’ MITHER</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_28">28</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#CHILD_ANGELS">CHILD ANGELS</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_30">30</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MY_LOVE_OF_LONG_AGO">MY LOVE OF LONG AGO</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_32">32</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#IN_SUMMER_TIME">IN SUMMER TIME</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_34">34</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TWIN-SISTERS">TWIN-SISTERS</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_36">36</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AT_LAST">AT LAST</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_38">38</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TRYSTING-TIME">TRYSTING-TIME</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_40">40</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#BESIDE_THE_DEAD">BESIDE THE DEAD</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_41">41</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#HER_FIRST_SEASON">HER FIRST SEASON</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_43">43</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ANTICIPATED">ANTICIPATED</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_46">46</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#WHEN_THOU_ART_NEAR">WHEN THOU ART NEAR</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_47">47</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_PORTRAIT">A PORTRAIT</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_48">48</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#DOROTHY">DOROTHY</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_49">49</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#DAFFODILS">DAFFODILS</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_51">51</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_BLACKBIRD">THE BLACKBIRD</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_52">52</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#WHOM_THE_GODS_LOVE_DIE_YOUNG">“WHOM THE GODS LOVE DIE YOUNG”</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_53">53</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#GRANNIES_BAIRN">GRANNIE’S BAIRN</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_54">54</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#LOVES_POWER">LOVE’S POWER</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_56">56</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_JUNE_MEMORY">A JUNE MEMORY</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_57">57</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_MESSAGE">A MESSAGE</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_59">59</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#HER_WINDOW">HER WINDOW</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_61">61</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SHATTERED_HOPES">SHATTERED HOPES</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_62">62</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#HAND_IN_HAND">HAND IN HAND</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_64">64</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AND_FOR_THE_WEARY_REST">“AND FOR THE WEARY, REST”</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_65">65</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#IN_AN_OLD_ORCHARD">IN AN OLD ORCHARD</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_67">67</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#BY_THE_SEA">BY THE SEA</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_68">68</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#REGRET">REGRET</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_69">69</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#WAES_ME">WAE’S ME</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_70">70</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_REASON_WHY">THE REASON WHY</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_71">71</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#DOWN_BY_THE_SEA">DOWN BY THE SEA</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_73">73</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_VENTURE">A VENTURE</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_74">74</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#WATER_LILIES">WATER LILIES</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_75">75</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_SENTINEL">THE SENTINEL</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_76">76</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_LOVE_SONG">A LOVE SONG</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_77">77</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AUTUMN">AUTUMN</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_78">78</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_QUAKER_MAID">A QUAKER MAID</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_79">79</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_TIME_THE_PLACE_THE_BELOVED">THE TIME, THE PLACE, THE BELOVED</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_81">81</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#DAY-DREAMS">DAY DREAMS</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_82">82</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SONG_OF_THE_SEASONS">SONG OF THE SEASONS</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_83">83</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ONE_SUMMER_DAY">ONE SUMMER DAY</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_84">84</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_INSCRUTABLE">THE INSCRUTABLE</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_85">85</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#DELILAH">DELILAH</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_86">86</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_BABYS_GRAVE">A BABY’S GRAVE</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_87">87</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_CHILDS_FAVOURITE">A CHILD’S FAVOURITE</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_88">88</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#RICH_OR_POOR">RICH OR POOR?</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_89">89</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#DOLLYS_GARDEN">DOLLY’S GARDEN</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_90">90</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#IN_A_DREAM-SHIP">IN A DREAM-SHIP</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_91">91</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_FLOWER-QUEENS_FALL">THE FLOWER-QUEEN’S FALL</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_93">93</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_VETERAN">A VETERAN</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_95">95</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TO_A_BUTTERFLY">TO A BUTTERFLY</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_96">96</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#WHEN_AND_WHERE">WHEN AND WHERE</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_96">96</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#WHEN_LOVE_IS_YOUNG">WHEN LOVE IS YOUNG</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_100">100</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_CHARACTER_SKETCH">A CHARACTER SKETCH</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_101">101</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#FRIENDS">FRIENDS</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_102">102</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#BED-TIME">BED-TIME</a></td><td class="rtb"><a href="#page_104">104</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="page_1">{1}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a id="A_SPRAY_OF_LILAC"></a><i>A SPRAY OF LILAC</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Pale</span> cluster, thy faint perfume comes to me<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Laden with memories of long ago,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all the present dims as o’er my soul<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The waves of tender recollection flow.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With Spring’s young blood again my veins are thrilled,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My hands are stretched to meet the coming years,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The world holds all the glory that it held<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ere yet mine eyes had looked on it thro’ tears.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With deftest fingers fancy weaves once more<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her fairy fabrics; vast horizons glow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With fires of promise, for behind their veils<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They hid rich treasures in that long-ago.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_2">{2}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The subtle sweetness of the vanished days,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The rapture of the old ecstatic bliss,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All, all are mine, as once again I cling<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To ripe warm lips in love’s first passion-kiss.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The long delicious Summer slowly weaves<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For Autumn’s brows a crown of living gold;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sad Winter follows with his winding-sheet,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For all the glory has grown grey and old.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, lilac bloom, strange that so slight a thing<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As thou, is strong to roll away the stone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From memory’s grave, and set the dead past free<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To claim yet once brief kinship with its own.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_3">{3}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="IN_AN_OLD_GARDEN"></a><i>IN AN OLD GARDEN</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Yellow</span> roses, purple pansies,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Tufts of heavy-headed stocks;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Either side the quaint old gateway<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Blazing, torch-like hollyhocks.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sweet peas tossing airy banners,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Saintly lilies bending low,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Daisies, powdering all the green sward<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With a shower of summer snow.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Boxwood borders—yews fantastic—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Wallflowers that with every sigh<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spill such scent that e’en the brown bees,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Reel with rapture wandering by.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_4">{4}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And the pear trees, long arms stretching<br /></span> -<span class="i2">O’er the sunny gable wall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Scarce can hold their ruddy nurslings<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ripening where the warm beams fall.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, the ecstasy of living!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">How it thrills my life to-day!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I can almost hear the flower-bells<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Tinkle where my footsteps stray!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In a garden God first placed man,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">There first woke Love’s magic thrill;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And methinks a breath of Eden<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Clings to earth’s old gardens still.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_5">{5}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="A_MOTHERS_GRIEF"></a><i>A MOTHER’S GRIEF</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">To</span> a great wide city all alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Long, long ago went our baby queen—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No name but hers on the white headstone,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That gleams to the moon from its mound of green!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">None of her own did welcome her there—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Not a grain of kindred dust doth wave<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the flowers that out of the tears of despair<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Have arched a rainbow over her grave.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Out from the shelter of loving arms,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Out from the warmth of a mother’s breast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Heedless of darkness and night’s alarms,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">On to the silent city she pressed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To take her place ’mong the mighty throng<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That people its myriad streets. Ah, me!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I felt my God had done me a wrong,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When He loosened love’s cords and set her free!<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_6">{6}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And my passionate moan that broke in tears,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like a burdened wave on a desert shore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seemed all too feeble to reach His ears<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the pain grew old that my bosom bore;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the faith that I once had thought mine own<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Rose up to mock where it could not save,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And my heart grew hard as the carven stone<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That was crushing my darling in her grave.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Whenever a child’s sweet flower-like face<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Met mine, a sickness would o’er me creep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I’d turn wild eyes to the lonely place<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where she was lying alone—asleep.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At strife was I with the world, and God<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Had drawn around Him an angry cloud;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Earth held no green but the churchyard sod,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the daisies wore the gleam of a shroud.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But a time there came when about my breast<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With a wand’ring touch small fingers stole,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And feeble lips to its fountains pressed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And stirred with a vague sweet joy my soul;<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_7">{7}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the floodgates opened, and blessèd tears<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of repentance fell from my eyes like rain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And after the barren and prayerless years<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I knelt to the Giver of All again!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_8">{8}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="A_SUMMER_MEMORY"></a><i>A SUMMER MEMORY</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">I remember</span> an evening,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An evening in one far June,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sun seemed loth to leave the sky<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To a young impatient moon.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The yellow sands lay waiting<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For the sea’s long cool embrace;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We watched the ripples breaking,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like smiles upon its face.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The green trees nestled closer<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To the broad breast of the hill;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The twilight’s glamour gathered,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the day was with us still.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_9">{9}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And a sadness born of beauty,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And a joy to pain akin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Touched all that lay without us,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And hushed my soul within.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A silence stepped between us,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We seemed to stand apart;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet I thought your eyes grew tender,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And I know what filled my heart.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But the words were never spoken;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the distance wider grew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till the world of waves was lying<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Between me, love, and you,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">No bridge might ever cross it.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I watched you turn away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I went back to duty—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Tis all a woman may.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But I never shall be nearer<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The thrilling heights of bliss—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unless the next world gives us<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The love we lose in this<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_10">{10}</a></span>—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Than when in that far June-time,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We seemed to stand apart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I thought your eyes grew tender,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And I knew what filled my heart.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_11">{11}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="UNSATISFIED"></a><i>UNSATISFIED</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Oh</span>, “dear dead days” that dearer grow,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I look behind, and thro’ my tears,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Across a wide, wide gulf of years,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I see you now and now I <i>know</i>.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When I was yours, you mine, alas!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I did not know your real worth,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And, longing for the future’s birth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Found time so slow, so slow to pass.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The joys I hoped for never came,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">While those I held slipped from my clasp,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As I stretched yearning hands to grasp<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shadows—’tis evermore the same!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We strain dim eyes up to the stars,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Nor heed the blossoms at our feet;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like puny birds we beat and beat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our lives out ’gainst Fate’s prison bars.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_12">{12}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="MY_SONG"></a><i>MY SONG</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“<span class="smcap">When</span> love is mine,” said I, “I’ll make a song<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In praise of love that maketh life so sweet;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One worthy such a grand and noble theme—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Worthy to lay at my belovèd’s feet.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Pure, perfect pearls of poesy I’ll string<br /></span> -<span class="i2">On Music’s silken thread, so rhythmic-sweet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That those who hear shall feel as though each word<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Were but an echo of my heart’s warm beat.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now love <i>is</i> mine; but where my boasted song?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My heart is full—too full, ah me! for words;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And yet methinks my new-found joy has lent<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Fresh rapture to the voices of the birds.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And I am dumb; the world will never hear<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The music filling all this life of mine.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh! love is too sublime a theme for me;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I can but kneel in silence at love’s shrine.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_13">{13}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="IN_AN_OLD_CHURCHYARD"></a><i>IN AN OLD CHURCHYARD</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">In</span> one of England’s sweetest spots,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A little old grey church I found;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Around it lies—dear restful ground!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God’s garden with its sacred plots.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With myriad arms the ivy holds<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Its time-worn walls in close embrace:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">So Memory sometimes keeps a face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Half-veiled in tender misty folds.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With sleepy twitter and with song<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The tower, bird-haunted, is alive;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In leafy seas they dip and dive,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Those tiny warblers all day long.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Like sentinels grown hoar with age,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The crumbling headstones guard the graves<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Which softly swell—green voiceless waves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That will not break though tempests rage.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_14">{14}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Concerning them that are asleep”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In this sweet hamlet of the dead,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In broken sentences I read<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The record those old tablets keep;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Each told its tale, for hath not Grief<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A voice whose echoes never die?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Adown the ages, Rachel’s cry<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Still rings o’er some God-garnered sheaf.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Mine eyes, ne’er prodigal of tears,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Did fill with such as seemed to rise<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And drown the glory of the skies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O’er those who’d slept the sleep of years.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_15">{15}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="SECRETS"></a><i>SECRETS</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">July</span> roses wet with rain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tap against the window-pane;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There is something they would seek,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had they voices and could speak.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Silence seals their crimson lips,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the dull rain drops and drips.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Th’ other side the streaming glass<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stands a little sad-eyed lass;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There is something she would seek,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But a maiden may not speak—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Silence seals her longing lips,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the dull rain drops and drips.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And salt tears in showers stain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her side of the window-pane;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the crimson roses grow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pale as dreams dreamt long ago;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Hearts may break behind sealed lips),<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the dull rain drops and drips.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_16">{16}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="REVEALED_NOT_SPOKEN"></a><i>REVEALED—NOT SPOKEN</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> little maiden that I love,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I met in yonder lane;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A flood of sunshine seemed to fall<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Around her as she came.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Methought the very hedgerows took<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A tenderer, livelier green,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And blossoms burst from every bud<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As she passed on between!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And gladder, madder, merrier notes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A skylark round him threw,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As high above her golden head,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He poised amid the blue.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_17">{17}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I meant to tell her all my heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And yet—I know not why,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon the threshold of my lips<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The story seemed to die.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It might have been the witchery,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The magic of her smile,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That in a spell held all my soul,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And kept me dumb the while!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It might have been that all too pure<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For earth-born love seemed she;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From her white height of maidenhood<br /></span> -<span class="i2">How could she stoop to me?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But eyes can prove more eloquent,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And though the tongue may fail,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In potent language they reveal<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The old, old tender tale.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For, placing her slim hand in mine,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Methought I heard my name<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So softly, murmurously breathed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I scarce knew whence it came!<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_18">{18}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">No need for words between us now;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A subtle sweetness stole<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through all our being, and we felt<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That soul had answered soul.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And with the sunshine in our hearts,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The bird’s song in our ears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We left the lane, my love and I,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To meet the coming years.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_19">{19}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="BURIED_TREASURES"></a><i>BURIED TREASURES</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Tis true my later years are blest<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With all that riches can bestow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But there is wealth, wealth cannot buy,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Hid in the mines of “Long Ago.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There jealous guard does Memory keep;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Yet sometimes, when I dream alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She comes and takes my hand in hers,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And shows me what was once my own.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I revel ’mong such precious things;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I count my treasures o’er and o’er;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I learn the worth of some, whose worth,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ah me! I never knew before.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And then all slowly fades away,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And I return to things you know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With empty hands and tear-filled eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Back from the mines of “Long Ago.”<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_20">{20}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="AFFINITY"></a><i>AFFINITY</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">But</span> little converse have we held,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Our hands have scarcely ever met,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With just a formal word or two<br /></span> -<span class="i2">You come and go; and yet—and yet—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I have a dream we two were one<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ere garb of flesh these spirits wore;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The soul that speaks within your eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Tells mine they’ve met and loved before.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And so I am content to wait,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Knowing the day will surely dawn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When, as the first man woke, you’ll wake<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From your soul-sleep, and looking on<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My face will know that I am she,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Your Eve, your other self, your fate.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till then, till then, come weal or woe,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I am content, content to <i>wait</i>.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_21">{21}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="MY_HOUSE_IS_LEFT_UNTO_ME_DESOLATE"></a>“<i>MY HOUSE IS LEFT UNTO ME DESOLATE</i>”</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A little</span> while, you say, a little while,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And I shall be where my belovèd are;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And with your eyes aglow with faith, you say,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“Thy dear ones have not journeyed very far.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Not very far.” I say it o’er and o’er,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Till on mine ear mine own voice strangely falls,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like some mechanic utterance that repeats<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A meaningless refrain to empty walls.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Not very far;” but measured by my grief,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A distance measureless as my despair.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When from the dreams that give them back to me,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I wake to find that they have journeyed there!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Not very far.” The soul surmises, hopes,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Has hoped, surmising, since the first man slept;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But, oh, the heart, it knoweth its own loss,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And death is death, as ’twas when Rachel wept.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_22">{22}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="AN_OLD_MANS_DREAM"></a><i>AN OLD MAN’S DREAM</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">With</span> idle hands and misty eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I sit alone to-night and dream;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon the hearth, like elfin sprites,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The red flames dance, and twist, and gleam.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A dimness gathers in my room,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The pictured faces on the wall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pale, and o’er each familiar thing<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A strangeness slowly seems to fall.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With noiseless step there comes to me,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">One whom I loved in days gone by.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The same is she, unchanged by time—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Unchanged—but oh, how changed am I!<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_23">{23}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Her hair, which long, long years ago<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Was like spun threads of living gold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Still clusters round a brow that wears<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Immortal youth—and I am old.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">No look of recognition lights<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her eyes, that meet mine o’er and o’er;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And yet she loved me once—and love,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I know, is love for evermore.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She looks around in anxious quest;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I think I know for whom she seeks.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She only sees a strange old man,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With snow-white hair and wrinkled cheeks.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And then like wings of birds that preen<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For flight, a soft stir moves the air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is the whisper of her gown—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She goes to look for me elsewhere.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A sudden glory fills my eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It is the firelight’s ruddy gleam;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thank God she did not pass me by<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I only saw her in a dream!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_24">{24}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="A_SUMMER_WOOING"></a><i>A SUMMER WOOING</i><br /><br /> -<small>A SONG</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Up</span> and away!—up, up, and away!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The hedgerows are foaming with blossom to-day;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its bonfires the golden gorse lights on the hill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the wanton wind’s wooing wherever it will.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Up and away!—up, up, and away!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The cuckoo’s name rings through the woodlands to-day;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The warm blood of Summer runs rioting through<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The veins of each leaflet—then why not of you?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Up and away!—up, up, and away!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s Passion and Poetry stirring to-day.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Half blinded with rapture, the heavy bees dart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the lily’s white breast to the rose’s red heart.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_25">{25}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Up and away!—up, up, and away!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The old world’s begun a fresh courting to-day.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wooed you all winter, but found you as cold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As the snowdrift that gleamed on the ridge of the wold.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Up and away!—up, up, and away!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your eyes tell me “Yes,” though your lips say me “Nay.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The tears, so long frost-bound, are ready to flow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she melts in my arms, my proud maiden of snow!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_26">{26}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="WEE_ELSIE"></a><i>WEE ELSIE</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">O’ a’</span> the bonny wee bit lasses<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That e’er I’ve kent, not ane surpasses<br /></span> -<span class="i6">My Elsie.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ oh, she has sic denty ways,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Auld farrant a’ she does and says;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just watch the bairnie as she plays<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“At mither,” dressed in mither’s claes!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Like twa sweet rosebuds on ae stalk,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her lips part in her guileless talk;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She hauds a key that wad unlock<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yer heart were’t hard as granite rock.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sae fearless are her een o’ blue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They seem tae look ye through an’ through;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But though sae brave, an’ frank, an’ true,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wi’ happy fun they’re brimmin’ fu<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_27">{27}</a></span>’.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Adoun her shoulders floats her hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sae long, sae silken, an’ sae fair,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In truth it seems a verra snare<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That’s caught an’ kept a sunbeam there.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But better faur, those graces meet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Aroun’ a nature just as sweet;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Methinks the bairnie is complete<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Frae wise wee heed tae willin’ feet.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_28">{28}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="BIDE_WI_MITHER"></a><i>BIDE WI’ MITHER</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Oh</span> bide a wee, my bonny lass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor seek to lea’ the auld hame-nest;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O’ a’ earth’s luvs ye yet will fin’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A mither’s highest is, an’ best.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She watched you like a rose unfauld,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She reads you like an open buik;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You scarce need speak, she is sae quick<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tae understan’ yer ev’ry luik.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The han’ that aye fan’ time tae pat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wee bit face sae aft turned up<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For “mither’s kiss,” has workit late<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ early for your bite an’ sup.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_29">{29}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ oh! it was a struggle sair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tae mak’ twa unco scrimp en’s meet;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In her first days o’ weedowhood<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She scarce could spare the time tae greet.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh dinna lea’ her yet awhile;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The laddie’s young, an’ he can wait;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There was a time, when you were wee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>She</i> micht hae had anither mate.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But she was feert he micht na be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As guid’s the fayther you had lost;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ though she could hae boucht her ease,<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>She</i> wad na’ dae it at the cost.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ noo she’s auld an’ growing frail,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your strong young arm should be her stay;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Life’s dounward slope is hard eneuch,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be yours the han’ tae smooth the way.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, bide wi’ her, an’ you will fin’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That duty done brings sweet reward;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Maister, Christ, pleased na’ Himsel’,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Although He was creation’s Lord!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_30">{30}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="CHILD_ANGELS"></a><i>CHILD ANGELS</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Oh</span>, there are happy angels<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That go on missions sweet;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They have no wings to bear them,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Just little human feet.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When I had grown aweary,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And all my faith was dim,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Twas one of them that led me,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And brought me back to Him.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When ’tween you and a loved one<br /></span> -<span class="i2">There lay a widening breach,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And you were coldly drifting<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Beyond each other’s reach,<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_31">{31}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">A child’s hand ’twas that bridged it—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A child’s soft, rosy palm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Held both your souls united,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And life grew sweet and calm.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When sorrows closely gathered,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And heart and head were bowed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The blue eyes of a baby<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Made rifts in pain’s dark cloud.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, happy, earth-born angels,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who go on missions sweet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If ye had wings to bear you,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Instead of little feet,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I fear me ye would use them,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Altho’ ye love us much,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To soar to Him who tells us<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His “Kingdom is of such.”<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_32">{32}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="MY_LOVE_OF_LONG_AGO"></a><i>MY LOVE OF LONG AGO</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">There</span> are faces just as perfect;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">There are eyes as true and sweet;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There are hearts as strong and tender<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As the heart that’s ceased to beat;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There are voices just as thrilling;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">There are souls as white, I know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As hers was when she went from me—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My love of long ago.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">New lips are ever telling<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The tale that ne’er grows old;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Life’s greys are always changing<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For some one into gold;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But amid the shine and shadow,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Amid the gloom and glow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She walks with me, she talks with me—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My love of long ago.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_33">{33}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When I think of all the changes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That the years to me have brought,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am glad the world that holds her<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is the world that changes not.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the same as when she left me,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She waits for me, I know—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My love on earth, my love in heaven,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My love of long ago.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_34">{34}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="IN_SUMMER_TIME"></a><i>IN SUMMER TIME</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Daisies</span> nod and blue-bells ring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Streamlets laugh and song birds sing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the clover bees close cling.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Cornfields wave their locks of gold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Poppies burn and wings unfold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Earth-stars twinkle on the mould.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Butterflies—live blossoms, blown<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From that Eden once our own—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Make of every flower a throne.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And a royal purple dyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yonder heather-hill, that lies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fitting footstool for the skies.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_35">{35}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And the gorse is all ablaze,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lighting up the moorland ways,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the days are golden days.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">E’en the myriad-mooded sea<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Earth-bound, yet than earth more free)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wears a look of <i>constancy</i>.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And your love, that in the spring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was a shy, uncertain thing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a bud just blossoming,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With the summer’s growth has grown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till our two lives, lived as one,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Make a summer of their own.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_36">{36}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="TWIN-SISTERS"></a><i>TWIN-SISTERS</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Two</span> girls—before me now they stand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Twin tender rosebuds, hand in hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fashioned as one—scarce known apart;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I see each face, God sees each heart.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I look on ripe red lips, and eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That hold the blue of summer skies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hair like finest gold refined;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I see the beauty, God the mind.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In womanhood’s first faint sweet dawn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh! they are fair to look upon;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Perfect from crown to dainty foot;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I see the bloom, God sees the fruit.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_37">{37}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What though a rose is each soft cheek,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If theirs be not that spirit meek?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What though their eyes are heaven’s own hue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If never wet with pity’s dew?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The plainest casket may enshrine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A gem that will for ever shine.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh, may this outward beauty be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But type of inward purity!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">God grant when Time its tale hath told,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And backward swing the gates of gold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before the Master they may stand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Twin tender rosebuds hand in hand!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_38">{38}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="AT_LAST"></a><i>AT LAST</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">She</span> is waiting for his coming,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As she waited long ago,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ere her sweet eyes were pain-haunted<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or her hair was touched with snow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ere that look of patient pathos<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Downward curved her tender lips,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or across her life’s young morning<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Fell a shadow of eclipse.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He is coming—but his footsteps<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Know not now youth’s bounding grace,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a world of sin and suffering<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is recorded in his face;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Airy dreams of high ambition<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That he cherished in the past—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All have vanished—and aweary<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He returns to her at last.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_39">{39}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In the old familiar garden<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where he first breathed love’s fond vow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With new hopes, like the new roses<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Sprung from old roots, they stand now;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the past is past for ever,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She forgives, and he forgets,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the present peace has buried<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Years of sorrows and regrets.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_40">{40}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="TRYSTING-TIME"></a><i>TRYSTING-TIME</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Tis only when the wooing west<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Has drawn the tired sun to her breast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I seek my darling’s place of rest.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In twilight-time we used to meet—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ah me, how lag our listless feet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When we have but a grave to greet!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And yet, this daisy-dappled grave<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So like a soft white-crested wave<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is all beneath the skies I have.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">On broken wings the years have flown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh love, since in the long agone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I left you sleeping here alone!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_41">{41}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="BESIDE_THE_DEAD"></a><i>BESIDE THE DEAD</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Touch</span> not her hand, let not your tear-drops stain<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The show-white purity of her dead brow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Withhold your lips, their passion or their pain<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Can thrill her nor with love nor pity now.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The empty years that followed your farewell—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The joyless dawns, the nights that brought no rest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are ended,—and those weary eyelids fell<br /></span> -<span class="i2">O’er eyes that had grown dim in one vain quest.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thank God for this; her woman’s faith remained<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Steadfast, unshaken to the very last,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And with her idol undefaced, unstained,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To place it in a “niche in Heaven” she passed.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_42">{42}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But yesterday, your lightest whispered word<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Had thrilled her heart, as spring’s first breath awakes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The rapture in the bosom of a bird<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Till winter’s silence with a song he breaks.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And I,—whose love for her was purified<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the fierce crucible of human pain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had felt that I was more than satisfied<br /></span> -<span class="i2">If loss of mine had ended in her gain.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For her soul’s sustenance you only left<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The memory of a lightly plighted vow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To take one kiss from those dead lips were theft,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The jewel was yours,—I claim the casket now.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_43">{43}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="HER_FIRST_SEASON"></a><i>HER FIRST SEASON</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Cloud-like</span> laces softly float<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Round a dainty snow-white throat—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fastened here and flutt’ring there<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a careless cunning care;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blue-bells, blue as summer skies are.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or her own sweet sunny eyes are,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cluster close beneath her chin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if love—and not a pin—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Kept them fondly nestling in!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Gown of some transparent thing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a dragonfly’s clear wing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Full of whispers vague and sweet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Falls in white folds to her feet.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_44">{44}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Light as moss veils drape their roses,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Round her flower-like form it closes—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Every graceful curve it shows us.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Silken mittens soft and quaint,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of a shade æsthetic, faint,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Weave a jealous network o’er<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Two pink palms that I adore;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a musical mixed jangle<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Comes from bracelet and from bangle<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As it fetters each slim wrist<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Made but to be clasped and kissed),<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With fantastic coil and twist.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hair a-ripple like ripe corn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wind-kissed on a summer morn.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What, you say you see the glint<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of a reaper’s blue scythe in’t?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nay, ’tis but a silver arrow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wand’ring through a golden furrow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the sun-shafts bore and burrow.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_45">{45}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Like a bright plumed bird is she,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the home-nest just set free;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Knowing neither grief nor wrong,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In her heart and lips a song.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis not I would wish to make her<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Prim and drab-gown’d like a Quaker!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All fair things are beauty’s dower—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Doth not God’s hand paint the flower?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Youth is but a fleeting hour!)<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_46">{46}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="ANTICIPATED"></a><i>ANTICIPATED</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Oh</span> I have wealth, and could have placed<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Upon your head a golden crown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But Nature, having had my taste,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And being first, has set one down.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I could have given you rubies rare,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And sapphires of a heavenly hue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And pearls all shimmering soft and fair;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But here she’s been before me too.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For ruby lips to you she’s given,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And strung two pearly rows between,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sapphire eyes more blue than heaven<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She’s dowered you with, my queen, my queen!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I needs must be content to lay<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My heart’s best treasures at your feet:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Without love’s gem, which shines for aye,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The fairest crown were incomplete.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_47">{47}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="WHEN_THOU_ART_NEAR"></a><i>WHEN THOU ART NEAR</i><br /><br /> -<small>A SONG</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">When</span> thou art near no other face I see,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thy voice is all the music I can hear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My heart’s desire is granted unto me<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When thou art near.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When thou art near I am content, nay more,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I’m blest in breathing the same atmosphere.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To higher heights my aspirations soar<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When thou art near.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When thou art near, though yet I dare not lay<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My lips on those I hold so very dear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I know that heaven is not so far away<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When thou art near.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_48">{48}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="A_PORTRAIT"></a><i>A PORTRAIT</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A sadness</span> lingers round her lips,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A shadow ever haunts her eyes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like dusky pools are they on which<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The mystery of the moonlight lies.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Her voice is sweet, but grave in tone,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">No ring hath it of joyous mirth;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet somehow when she speaks, methinks<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A benediction falls on earth.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A sense of rest her presence brings,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She moves with such a quiet grace;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And ’tis the pitying soul within<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Makes tender twilight of her face.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Methinks the Virgin-mother must<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Have looked like this when to her breast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Babe, who was to save a world,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With mingled joy and pain she pressed.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_49">{49}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="DOROTHY"></a><i>DOROTHY</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Dorothy</span> is debonair;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Little count hath she or care;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All her gold is in her hair.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And the freshness of the Spring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Round this old world seems to cling<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When you hear her laugh or sing.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">On her sunny way she goes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Much she wonders—little knows,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Love’s as yet a folded rose.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">All her smiles in dimples die;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Glad is she, nor knows she why:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just to live is ecstasy!<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_50">{50}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Lightly lie the chains, methinks,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That have daisies for their links;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Youth’s the fount where Pleasure drinks.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Dorothy is debonair;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Little count hath she or care,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sunshine in her heart and hair.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_51">{51}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="DAFFODILS"></a><i>DAFFODILS</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Oh</span>, wild is the daffodils’ dance<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To the tune that the March pipes blow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Heads a-tossing—lances crossing,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Curtsies sweeping and low.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Like waves in a flaming sunset<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They tumble, and twist, and turn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What tho’ from its slender pillar<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Droppeth one golden urn?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Short-lived is their joy and reckless,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Never a pause for breath.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ah, well!—are <i>we</i> too not whirling<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As blind, in our “dance of death”?<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_52">{52}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="THE_BLACKBIRD"></a><i>THE BLACKBIRD</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">When</span> baby buds begin to shoot<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then hey! the blackbird’s golden flute;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All steeped in love seems every note<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let loose from his mellifluous throat.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">No wild rhapsodic bursts proclaim<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What rapture thrills his tiny frame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His heart is like a brimming cup,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where pearls of joy keep bubbling up.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The lark like some delirious thing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At heaven’s far gate may soar and sing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But oh, methinks the blackbird brings<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Heaven down to earth what time he sings!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_53">{53}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="WHOM_THE_GODS_LOVE_DIE_YOUNG"></a>“<i>WHOM THE GODS LOVE DIE YOUNG</i>”</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Her</span> voice is hushed, her hands are still,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I, from the summit of the hill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Look down, and marvel at God’s will.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Her foot was planted at the base<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All eager for the upward race,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her genius shining in her face.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She felt the soul within her leap,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She yearned to scale the steepest steep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now—she’s fallen upon sleep!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">God knoweth best!—I must descend<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The downward slope. Good-bye, sweet friend,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Life’s myriad ways meet in the end.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_54">{54}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="GRANNIES_BAIRN"></a><i>GRANNIE’S BAIRN</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">When</span> oor wee Elspeth’s in the hoose<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I scarce hae use for hauns or feet—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ after a’, why <i>should</i> I fash<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When she’s sae nimble an’ sae fleet?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I wonner whaur I laid my specs!”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The words hae haurdly left ma mooth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Afore I fin’, across my nose,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She has them set astride forsooth.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She threeds ma needle, winds ma woo’,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Picks up the steeks that whiles <i>will</i> drap—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She slips aboot like some wee moose<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For fear she’ll wauke me frae ma nap.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_55">{55}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Her wee three-leggit stool ye’ll aye<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Fin’ drawn up close tae granny’s chair;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She learns her task an’ sews her seam,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ sups her cog o’ parritch there.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An’ mony’s the lang crack we twa hae;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But whiles, sic puzzlin’ things she’ll spier,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The verra Meenister himsel’<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Waud be dumbfounded could he hear.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She <i>has</i> her bit camsterie turns,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But just eneuch tae show that she<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is no a being that is made<br /></span> -<span class="i2">O’ diff’rent clay tae you an’ me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But that she’s no by-ord’nar wean<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The neebors roon aboot agree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sae ye ken it is na just<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ma <i>ain</i> opeenion that I gie.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_56">{56}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="LOVES_POWER"></a><i>LOVE’S POWER</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">When</span> you did leave me, love,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The whole world seem’d with you to ebb away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And like a broken stranded wreck I lay.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But you returned; and lo!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A fresh tide thrill’d my life’s deserted shore;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Love was conqueror over Death once more.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_57">{57}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="A_JUNE_MEMORY"></a><i>A JUNE MEMORY</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Twas June, the roses were reigning<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In regalest splendour and pride.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sweet peas, like butterflies tethered,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Were flutt’ring on every side.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Like smouldering fires the wallflowers<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Burned dull in the sun’s strong glow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the yellow bees, like meteors,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Went flashing to and fro.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">No lordly pleasaunce was it,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But an old-world garden wild,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where purple-hooded pansies<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And long-lashed daisies smiled.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_58">{58}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And there in June we parted;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the sad years hurtle by<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like birds whose wings are broken<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When they just have learned to fly.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And I think,—Do you remember<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the life that’s yours to-day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That garden and its glamour,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the time that <i>would not</i> stay!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, amid the faces around you,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Does one face never arise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And for a moment hold you<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With the old spell of its eyes?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ah no! You men forget us,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And we!—we must be dumb.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And life’s June goes for ever<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the snows of winter come.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_59">{59}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="A_MESSAGE"></a><i>A MESSAGE</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">In</span> a little broken flower-pot<br /></span> -<span class="i2">High up on a window-sill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Mid grime and gloom and squalor,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Grew a golden daffodil.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It seem’d in the gloom of the alley<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like a sunbeam that had strayed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out from the light of heaven<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Into a land of shade.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And close in a cage beside it<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A skylark sweetly sang<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till all the narrow alley<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With its wild rapture rang.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_60">{60}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And one poor weary sinner<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Paused, as her wild eyes turned<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To where, on its humble altar,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The flower-flame upward burned.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And something stirred in her bosom;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Twas the heart that had long lain dead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As the bird’s song rose from its prison<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the shadow overhead.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">God’s angels are birds and flowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And oh! methinks they preach<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At times with a power and pathos<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We men can never reach.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_61">{61}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="HER_WINDOW"></a><i>HER WINDOW</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Up</span> the gable the roses creep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Eager to get a little peep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Behind the curtain of snowy lace<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That hangs, like a bridal veil, over the face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of a shy wee window, whose panes glint through<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A network of creepers, like eyes of blue.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I needs must stand below, below,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And see them high and higher go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till their lips are kissing the lattice sill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And their tendrils toy at their own sweet will<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the casement, so full of tender charms<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Since <i>her</i> shadow has lain within its arms.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_62">{62}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="SHATTERED_HOPES"></a><i>SHATTERED HOPES</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">This</span> morn upon the birken tree<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The mavis carolled blithe and free;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But—ah, his song was not for me!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Each wild note of his glad refrain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pierced like an arrow thro’ my brain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I could have cursed him for his strain.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I saw the sunshine and the flowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each proof of a Creator’s powers;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet dull and hateful were the hours.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I cannot weep—the fever dries<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The tears within my burning eyes—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The past before my vision flies.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_63">{63}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Once more I feel his deep-drawn kiss;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Once more my being thrills with bliss;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Once more I melt with tenderness.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I hear the trembling words that hung<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Deep fraught with passion on his tongue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till heart and soul with pain are wrung.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">All nature smiles—and yet to-day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In memory’s grave I’ve laid away<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My idol that has turned to clay.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_64">{64}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="HAND_IN_HAND"></a><i>HAND IN HAND</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Hand</span> in hand through the flow’ry ways<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Went Dora and I in the bygone days;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A wee girl she, her boy lover I,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ready to fight for her and die.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hand in hand through this vale of tears<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Went Dora and I in the after-years;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She was my wife and her husband I<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ready to fight for her and die.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hand in hand to the very last<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As her dear eyes dimmed, and her spirit passed;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An angel is she,—alone am I<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ready, O, God! and I <i>cannot</i> die.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_65">{65}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="AND_FOR_THE_WEARY_REST"></a>“<i>AND FOR THE WEARY, REST</i>”</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Of</span> all God’s precious promises<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The sweetest and the best<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is, that to weary laden ones<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who come, He giveth <i>rest</i>.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">’Tis not of glad Hosannas<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And streets of shining gold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We think so much when we are sick<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And sorrowful and old.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ah! there are times we feel too sad<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To contemplate the joy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The great and glorious themes of heaven<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That angel-minds employ.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_66">{66}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And weak, and worn, and weary,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We long to lay us down,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Feeling we scarce could bear the weight<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of e’en a glory-crown.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">That He is “very man,” I need<br /></span> -<span class="i2">None other proof than this,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That He has “rest” for those who feel<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Almost too tired for bliss.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_67">{67}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="IN_AN_OLD_ORCHARD"></a><i>IN AN OLD ORCHARD</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Sweet</span> avalanches of scented snow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bury one deep, as I lie below<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The laden white boughs abloom and ablow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the dear old orchard, where long ago<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My grand-dame dreamed, as I’m dreaming now,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With love in her heart and youth on her brow.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O, blossom-time passes too soon, too soon!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And grey night follows the golden noon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Autumn though ruddy brings ruin and rune,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And passion ne’er warms the cold heart of the moon.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So let me dream on, ’mid the apple-blooms sweet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For noontide and bloomtide are fair as they’re fleet.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And then when the blue of the sky is o’ercast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Summer is ended, and harvest is past,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the loosened leaves earthward are fluttering fast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the sleep that is dreamless is mine at last,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O, make my grave here; and lay me to rest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the sweet-scented snow shall fall light on my breast.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_68">{68}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="BY_THE_SEA"></a><i>BY THE SEA</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">I think</span>, as the white sails come and go,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the welcomes loud, and the farewells low;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the meeting lips, and the parting tears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the new-born hopes, and the growing fears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the eyes that glow, and the cheeks that pale,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As the hazy horizon’s mystic veil<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is silently parted, and to and fro<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The white sails come and the white sails go.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And a grey mist gathers, and all grows dim<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As I watch alone by the ocean’s rim.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For a dream is mine—ah me! ah me!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That salt with <i>tears</i> is the salt salt sea.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O, yearning eyes and outstretched hands!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O, divided lives, and divided lands!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As long as the waters ebb and flow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall the white sails come and the white sails go.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_69">{69}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="REGRET"></a><i>REGRET</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“It might have been,” is the sad refrain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That forever haunts my weary brain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till heart and soul grow weak with pain.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“It might have been,” are the words I hear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the curlew’s cry from the lonely mere;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the whisper of leaves when woods are sere.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“It might have been,” says the sea’s long moan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if a breaking heart of its own<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wailed out in that strange low undertone.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“<i>It might have been.</i>” Ah, the hungry cry<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As the leaden years crawl slowly by!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It will ring through my life till I die, I die.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_70">{70}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="WAES_ME"></a><i>WAE’S ME</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Aroun</span>’ my bit bieldie the cauld win’ is soughing,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The dull rain is patt’ring amang the deid leaves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The mist-wreaths are swirling about the grey mountains,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The wee drookit birds huddle close ’neath the eaves.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Alang the bleak shore the lane sea gangs a sobbin’<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like some wander’d bairnie that fain wad win hame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Aye seekin’ an’ seekin’, an’ never yet findin’,—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Sure man, in his pilgrimage here, is the same.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The sky has nae promise, the earth hauds nae pleesure.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I look north an’ south, an’ I look east an’ west,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ I envy the folk i’ the kirk-yaird out yonder,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For there, ’mang the mools, there is rest—there is rest!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_71">{71}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="THE_REASON_WHY"></a><i>THE REASON WHY</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">I ken</span> the lassie’s winsome,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ blithe as she is braw;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But ’tis not worth nor beauty aye<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That steal the heart awa’.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Her cheek is like the wild-rose,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her lips are like the haw;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But neither ane nor t’ither ’twas<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That stole my heart awa’.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Her locks are black as midnight,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her brow like driven snaw;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And yet it was na’ these I vow<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That stole my heart awa<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_72">{72}</a></span>’.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Her smile is like the sunshine,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Twad gar an iceberg thaw;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But ’twas na’ this by my guid-faith<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That stole my heart awa’.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ilk lad’s lass the fairest is,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For Beauty kens nae law;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Though <i>some</i> folk maun be easy pleased<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Wha’s hearts are stown awa’!)<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ah weel! maybe the pearl I’ve foun’<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is no wi’out a flaw!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But just because she’s her ain sel’<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She stole my heart awa’.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_73">{73}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="DOWN_BY_THE_SEA"></a><i>DOWN BY THE SEA</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">O, mighty</span> organ of a thousand keys,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">O’er which the Master’s fingers ever stray!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I, listening, hear a myriad melodies<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Played in the space of one short summer day.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The long, low plash of little languid waves,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The sweet, sad dirge of softly dying swell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The deep, delicious gurglings in the caves,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Hold music that this soul of mine loves well.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Full as the human heart of mysteries,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like it responsive to His touch alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For only He can wake the harmonies<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Which sleep within thy bosom and mine own.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_74">{74}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="A_VENTURE"></a><i>A VENTURE</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Her</span> mouth looks like a scarlet flower<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And I feel like a hungry bee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I long to dart straight to its heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But—what would be the fate of me?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The bravest ’tis should win the prize,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And yet I dare not risk her scorn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And who but knows the reddest rose<br /></span> -<span class="i2">May hide the very sharpest thorn?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yet who can tell but she might yield<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Its sweetness up in one long kiss?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So I, who dare not risk her scorn,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Can risk still less to lose such bliss.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And when she feels my parchèd lips<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Athirst with long long years of drouth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She will forgive me, that I sought<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That dewy chalice, her sweet mouth.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_75">{75}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="WATER_LILIES"></a><i>WATER LILIES</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A fleet</span> of fairy vessels<br /></span> -<span class="i2">All freighted with pure gold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lilies lie at anchor<br /></span> -<span class="i2">On the lake’s breast, calm and cold.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Their soft, white sails, seem waiting<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The zephyr’s first faint kiss<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To waft them to another world,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">More bright and fair than this.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Methinks, it were no marvel,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">If I should find, one day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They’d drifted from their moorings,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And in silence sailed away.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_76">{76}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="THE_SENTINEL"></a><i>THE SENTINEL</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Tick! tick! tick!” goes the old clock in the hall;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The merry hours, the mournful hours<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alike he counts them all<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As he stands erect at his post,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Time’s solemn Sentinel.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">All that he hath to say he saith,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And on, with never a pause for breath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He hurries us nearer the day of death.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Though his warning voice is ofttimes drowned<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the whirr, as the wheels of life run round,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet, whether or no we <i>hear</i> the sound,—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Tick! tick! tick!” goes the old clock in the hall;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The merry hours, the mournful hours<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alike he counts them all,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As he stands erect at his post,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Time’s solemn Sentinel.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_77">{77}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="A_LOVE_SONG"></a><i>A LOVE SONG</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Upon</span> a bosom snowy white<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A little dimpled chin drops down,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While trembling shy lids hide the light<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of love, new born in eyes dark brown.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A tiny timorous hand seeks mine<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For shelter, fluttering like a dove;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And with a rapture half divine<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I burn my kisses through its glove.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">June’s rosy treasures sweetly blend<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Upon her cheek and modest brow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But only Cupid’s self could lend<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The crimson stealing o’er them now.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Her voice makes music of my name,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A heaven of love is in her smile,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her pure mind, like an altar-flame,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Burns clear and steady all the while.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_78">{78}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="AUTUMN"></a><i>AUTUMN</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Red</span> as blood is Autumn’s gown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a flaming fire her crown.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And her fingers sere and scorch,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each one a destroying torch.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Fever follows in her wake,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor the dews her thirst can slake.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In her kisses there is death,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And decay in every breath.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She makes tombs of what were bowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Strewn with corses of dead flowers.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To the loftiest leaves that wave<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She but whispers of a grave.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_79">{79}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="A_QUAKER_MAID"></a><i>A QUAKER MAID</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Just</span> a pair of green-grey eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With a knack of changing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like the sea, when shine and shower<br /></span> -<span class="i2">O’er its breast are ranging.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Just a pair of green-grey eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Each one a heart-breaker,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who would think that they belonged<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To a little Quaker?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Prim her bonnet, drab her gown,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And she walks sedately,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a sort of lily-mien—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Drooping, and yet stately.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_80">{80}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And her voice sounds, oh, so meek!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“Thou” and “thee” and “thying,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet the while those grey-green eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Seem to be belying.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">All these airs of calm repose,—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">This sad suit and sober,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Why <i>should</i> Spring’s young sapling be<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Brown-leaved like October?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Gown her in the lilies’ white!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Crown her curls with roses!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wreath her neck with daisy-chains!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Fill her hands with posies!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Laughter-loving green-grey eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Young limbs girt with gladness,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How they mock this dismal drab<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Livery of sadness!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_81">{81}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="THE_TIME_THE_PLACE_THE_BELOVED"></a>“<i>THE TIME, THE PLACE, THE BELOVED.</i>”</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">You</span> and I among the roses—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">You and I and love and June—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All without and all within us<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Set to one sweet happy tune!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You and I among the roses!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Drowsy bees go blundering by;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Mid the tresses on your temples<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Little breezes swoon and die.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You and I among the roses!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Overhead a sapphire dome;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Neath our feet a sea of emerald,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Flecked with daisies for its foam.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You and I among the roses—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Tis for love the time and place!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What a world of rapture can be<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Crowded into one small space.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_82">{82}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="DAY-DREAMS"></a><i>DAY-DREAMS</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">I am</span> dreaming of you, belovèd,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In my home among the hills;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your eyes meet mine in every flower;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Above the highest height you tower,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet the glamour of your presence<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The lowest valley fills.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I hear your voice in the river<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That sings on its way to the sea;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when the wind sweeps over<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The low beds of the clover,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis the breath of my belovèd<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Its wide wings bear to me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I am dreaming of you, belovèd,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But though sweet these day-dreams be,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis the deeper dreams of sleeping<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That restore you to my keeping,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And so the world of shadows<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is the dearest world to me.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_83">{83}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="SONG_OF_THE_SEASONS"></a><i>SONG OF THE SEASONS</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Sing</span>, oh sing, ’tis summer time!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Sing it ’mong the roses,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sing it till each sleeping bud,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Dewy-eyed, uncloses.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sing it through the woodlands, till<br /></span> -<span class="i2">All the song-birds hear it!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sing,—till every blade of grass<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Finds a voice to cheer it.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4ast">* * * *<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sigh, oh sigh, ’tis winter drear!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Sigh it through the flowing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shroud that over earth’s dead breast<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Falls in time of snowing.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sigh it through the bare brown stems<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That once held the roses!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sigh it round the grave, that o’er<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Summer’s glory closes.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_84">{84}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="ONE_SUMMER_DAY"></a><i>ONE SUMMER DAY</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> sky stretched blue above us,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The sea slept at our feet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As still, as if its mighty heart<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Had almost ceased to beat.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A trembling hush seemed slowly<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Across the earth to steal,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As when after benediction<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The priest and people kneel.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It was as though God’s finger<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Lay on the pulse of life,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And stilled, for one brief moment,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Its tumult and its strife.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_85">{85}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="THE_INSCRUTABLE"></a><i>THE INSCRUTABLE</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A glad</span> young girl amid the sunshine flitting,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like a bright bird let loose from Paradise—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A weary woman, in the shadow, sitting<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With haggard face and dry despairing eyes.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4ast">* * * * * *<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The one in death’s dark chamber now is lying,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Stricken to marble her warm pulsing breast:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And God denies the luxury of dying<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To the sad soul whose one cry is for <i>rest</i>.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_86">{86}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="DELILAH"></a><i>DELILAH</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Why</span> comest thou with those grand eyes of thine<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To lure me as the cruel light the moth,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To my destruction.—Long ago my wrath<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cooled its white heat in pity’s depths divine.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There was a time when full of bitter hate<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I could have crushed thee—but that time is past,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And tho’ I needs must love thee to the last,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tempt me not now—it is too late, too late.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Apart for evermore our paths must lie,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Such love as thine can only bring a curse.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I would be better for my love, not worse,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So go while I have strength to say “Good-bye.”<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_87">{87}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="A_BABYS_GRAVE"></a><i>A BABY’S GRAVE</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">I could</span> not lay her down to sleep<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In a death-crowded place,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With grim black yews to keep God’s sun<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From shining on her face.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With softest greenest moss I lined<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For her a little nest;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No crushing marble slab I laid<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Upon her tender breast.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Nor iron rails like prison-bars<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her sacred form enclose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sternest guardian of her grave<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is just a fragile rose.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_88">{88}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="A_CHILDS_FAVOURITE"></a><i>A CHILD’S FAVOURITE</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Only</span> an old wooden dolly,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With an arm and a leg a-missing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The point of her nose rubbed off, I suppose,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Through too much washing or kissing.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In a frock of faded satin,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With tinsel lace tarnished and tattered;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her “coal-scuttle” bonnet holds, alas!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A head that’s a trifle battered.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, no, she has not lost her locks,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She <i>never</i> had curls black or golden;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A doll’s wig was safely painted on<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the days that <i>you</i> call “olden.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You laugh, and think her “too funny;”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Yet <i>once</i> she was just as much cherished<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As <i>your</i> dolly is—by a wee girl<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Whose dolly-days long ago perished.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_89">{89}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="RICH_OR_POOR"></a><i>RICH OR POOR?</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Only</span> a string of cold white pearls,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or diamond drops, like frozen tears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Has clasped my lady’s slender neck<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Through all the barren empty years.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Only wee warm white baby arms<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Have clasped <i>my</i> neck thro’ the sweet years;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet she is rich and I am poor—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or so it to the world appears.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_90">{90}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="DOLLYS_GARDEN"></a><i>DOLLY’S GARDEN</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">This</span> is Dolly’s garden,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">All her “very own,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Every flower that’s in it<br /></span> -<span class="i2">By her hand was sown—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never out of Eden<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Were such blossoms blown.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Like her eyes those pansies,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Deep and dark and blue—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As her soul those lilies,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Pure and white and true;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Frail earth-flowers and fading—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Dolly’s fading too.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">This <i>was</i> Dolly’s garden,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Here I stand <i>alone</i>,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dolly’s tending blossoms<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Near the Great White Throne:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dolly now has heaven<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For her “very own.”<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_91">{91}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="IN_A_DREAM-SHIP"></a><i>IN A DREAM-SHIP</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">She</span> sailed away one summer day<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In a ship of shining shell:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her cloak was a butterfly’s gauzy wing,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her bonnet a big blue-bell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her bed was a lady’s slipper,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her blankets the leaves of a rose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a cushion of thistledown had she,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Just to rest her tiny toes.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With golden oars from the earth’s dark shores<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She was borne o’er a silver sea;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she never feared as the captain steered<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For the land where she wished to be.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">And this was the song,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">As they drifted along,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That she sang from the ship of shell<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_92">{92}</a></span>—<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“Oh, we are bound<br /></span> -<span class="i4">For enchanted ground;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It’s <i>there</i> that the fairies dwell.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But a storm swept over the silver sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the little maid awoke<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As against the side of the fair frail barque<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A cruel billow broke;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she rubbed her eyes, and she pinched her arm,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And fearfully peeped around;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But instead of a ship “for fairyland”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She had boarded a “homeward-bound.”<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_93">{93}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="THE_FLOWER-QUEENS_FALL"></a><i>THE FLOWER-QUEEN’S FALL</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">A rebel</span> rose climbed to the top of the hedge,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And watched the people go up and down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The winding highway, dusty and grey,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That stretched from the village away to the town.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And an anger surged in her passionate heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Gainst the humble garden where she was born,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And her red lips curled at the old flower world,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And she cast around her such looks of scorn<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">That the lilies drooped ’neath her withering glance,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the pansies huddled together with fear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the poor pinks paled, and each daisy quailed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And dropped from her lashes a big round tear.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_94">{94}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For of the flower-kingdom this rose was queen,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And never were subjects more loyal than they—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And they fondly dreamed she was good as she seemed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And because they had loved they were proud to obey.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But lo! as she towered in haughty disdain<br /></span> -<span class="i2">High over their heads, with an angry gust<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wind swooped down and tore off her crown,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And its jewels went whirling away with the dust.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_95">{95}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="A_VETERAN"></a><i>A VETERAN</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">In</span> his niche in the hall, the old clock stands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But hushed is his voice, and still are his hands.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He ceased from his labours long years ago,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he’s only a “pensioner” now, you know.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He did his duty as long as he could,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For a brave heart beat in his breast of wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And you could depend on <i>all</i> he said<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till age, at last, turned him queer in the head.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With a visor of glass o’er his grim old face,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In his armour,—a straight, stiff, oaken case,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He “stands at ease” in his sentry box,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And leaves time-telling to younger clocks.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_96">{96}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="TO_A_BUTTERFLY"></a><i>TO A BUTTERFLY</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Butterfly</span>, O butterfly,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With gaily-jewelled wings,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You make me think of fairy folk<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And of enchanted things.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You once were held a prisoner<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In a castle grim and grey—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A “chrysalis” folk called it—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But you escaped away.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And now you flutter ’mong the flowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A restless roving elf,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or fold your wings and lie so still—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A very flower yourself.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_97">{97}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Or hoisting high two gauzy sails,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">You softly float away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just like a tiny fairy barque<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Bound for a fairy bay.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The bees must work, the birds must sing,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The flowers yield perfumes rare;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But you were born a trifler,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Frail thing of light and air!<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_98">{98}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="WHEN_AND_WHERE"></a><i>WHEN AND WHERE</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">I wonder</span> “when” and I wonder “where”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Angel of Death will come,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, laying a finger on lids and lips,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Will strike me blind and dumb.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I wonder “when” and I wonder “where”!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like the skeleton at the feast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Mid laughter and mirth this thought finds birth<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where it is welcome least.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I wonder “when” and I wonder “where”—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In my prime or old age hoar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At home, with my loved ones round my bed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or alone on an alien shore.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_99">{99}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I wonder “when” and I wonder “where!”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is God not over all?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He knows the time and He knows the place<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who marks a sparrow’s fall.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_100">{100}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="WHEN_LOVE_IS_YOUNG"></a><i>WHEN LOVE IS YOUNG</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> red and russet of Autumn die,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the lap of winter their ashes lie,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the earth is wan and grey the sky.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But the noon of a wondrous joy is mine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And my pulses thrill with the glowing wine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That flows from the grape of Love’s deathless vine.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What care have I that the brown stems bear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor leaf nor bloom, and the mad winds tear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The last poor tatters the forests wear?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Is not the heart in mine own glad breast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A garden of roses, a haven of rest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A bird that has builded a warm love-nest?<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_101">{101}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="A_CHARACTER_SKETCH"></a><i>A CHARACTER SKETCH</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Womanly-sweet</span> in all her ways,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Slow to condemn, and swift to praise;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ready to help in hour of need,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Generous in thought as well as deed.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Pitiful, tender, yet firm and strong<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To uphold the right and put down wrong;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never a thought of self or gain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Proud of her God-given gifts—not vain.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Laughter-loving, and fond of fun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the “daily round” and task are done;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Modest and maidenly, yet no prude;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Perfect enough, but not “too good.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Half an angel, yet wholly human;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No ideal—a living woman.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_102">{102}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="FRIENDS"></a><i>FRIENDS</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">We</span> are such friends, my little girl and I,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That, though her summers number scarcely nine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I need none other, as I go my ways<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With her small fingers closely clasping mine.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A little world we two make of our own,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And people it with all things fair and sweet;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The stars that twinkle overhead at night<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Drop down at dawn in daisies at our feet.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My smiles are hers;—my tears are all my own,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I keep my sighs and give her all my song,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because she is so trusting and so weak<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I feel that I can suffer and be strong.<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_103">{103}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The while I try to keep the narrow way,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’Tis wide enough for both. And my white dove,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With untried wings, knows little love but this,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That “Mother” is another name for “Love.”<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="page_104">{104}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a id="BED-TIME"></a><i>BED-TIME</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> sleepy daisies have said “Good night,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tied up their wee frilled nightcaps tight.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The summer day’s been hot and long<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And daisies, although they are so strong,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are always tired and ready for bed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ere the stars, heaven’s daisies, awake o’erhead.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The roses have rocked themselves to sleep.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Awake they could no longer keep—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They’ve been astir since the dawn of day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sighing their sweet perfume away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And feeding the hungry beggar bees<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That never say “thanks” nor “if you please!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And, baby darling, ’tis time that you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had shut your drowsy eyes of blue—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wee busy hands, wee busy feet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Must rest sometime, you know, my sweet—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The flower-bells <i>all</i> have chimed “Good night.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They’ll ring to wake you with the light.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<hr class="full" /> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SPRAY OF LILAC ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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