On the approaching close of The Great Exhibition And other poems. By The Lady Emmeline Stuart Wortley |
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 | On the approaching close of The Great Exhibition |  |
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TO MADAME LE VERT, OF MOBILE, ALABAMA, U.S.
1
Our hearts are joined in kindness, gentlest friend!Joined by a strong and ever-precious tie;
Together in affection's truth they blend,
And thoughtful sympathy.
2
Two mourning mothers we, alas! have been,Our hearts have travelled o'er the same dark track;
Since from our cradling arms we both have seen,
Our cherished babes called back.
3
Mothers are we of children loved and lost:Children, the very brightest of the fair,
Mothers of Angels in the Heavenly Host—
Still, still we love them there.
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4
Perchance a chain of Heaven's own golden flowers,Thy heart, unconscious, to my own may bind,
Unglimpsed, unmarked, from the amaranthine bowers,
By their dear hands entwined.
5
Yes, our sweet children may in joy have met,In some far-off and glad, angelic band;
And by the light of suns that never set,
Gone wandering hand in hand;—
6
Wandering 'midst worlds of glory and of bliss,Where loveliest shows and happiest scenes unroll;
Yet from those worlds still winging thoughts to this,
Straight to the mothers' soul.
7
By an electric, yet enduring tie,May they our touched and thrilling hearts have bound,
Still nearer to us in the o'erlooking sky,
Than all that girds us round.
8
From those bless'd realms, athwart the haunted night,Of our sad bosoms they perchance have thrown
A starry-clustered influence, full of might,
While still their sway we own.
9
Their wing-linked rosy-fluttering shadows fall,Far through the new-calmed spirit's glassy deep;
And make it own a strange and mystic thrall,
And moods accordant keep.
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10
Whispering sweet tones to which our being starts,Have they indeed controlled and stamped our thought?
And laid their blessed hands upon our hearts,
And our new friendship taught?
11
Their clasped-together hands, perchance, may thusHave circled us with more than magic chain;
Their linked-together hearts may wake in us,
A kind responsive vein.
12
Fain would I think it!—sunbeams, incense, flowers,Float through such kindling thoughts of living light,
And their sweet Heaven-love, mirrored thus in ours,
Should bring glad tidings bright.
13
Oh, if the fanciful presumption seemToo boldly soaring, and too wildly high,
May Heaven forgive a mother's yearning dream,
That lingering haunts the sky.
14
That in a thousand once vain, common things,Marks seraph-shadowings, breath, and touch, and smile,
And hears the wave of high celestial wings,
Where all was earth erewhile.
15
This from our loss, at least, we both have gained,Our longing hearts are ever drawn and raised
Toward heights to which our darlings have attained,
Where love hath all but gazed!
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16
Hath zeal, hath hope, hath science, ever soaredSo gladly to the deathless realms serene,
As hearts, whose living treasures there are stored,—
Scarce seems a cloud between.
17
Yet Oh! that cloud, impervious to our gaze,It spreads, though slight, with dread and awful power,
And hides a Heavenly Universe's blaze,
Till the appointed hour.
18
But from our loss, if we thus much have gained,Our humbly-lifted hearts should grateful prove,
Grateful to be no more to Earth enchained,
Freed through the upspringing love.
19
Even now, like cherub-parents of our souls,Our children seem to nurse our nobler powers;
From them we gain, while time still heavenward rolls,
New hopes and richest dowers.
20
Still let it be so!—let us owe to themShowers of celestial gifts—unnamed, untold!
Flowered dream, and starry thought, and spirit-gem,
Richer than pearl and gold.
21
Still let it be so! let us feel and see,Their high-sphered influence ever round us steal;
And as each day glides towards Eternity,
Learn more to love and feel.
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22
And when ourselves shall breathe diviner air,Oh, may we find, and clasp at last the unlost;
Our beatific treasures gathered there,
Fairest amidst a host.
| On the approaching close of The Great Exhibition | |