 | Western windows and other poems |  |
213
FOLDED DOWN.
We read together—here the book.
(Eyes tender-lidded, drooping, brown!)
The bees were in the roses. Look,
The leaf is folded down.
(Eyes tender-lidded, drooping, brown!)
The bees were in the roses. Look,
The leaf is folded down.
It is the story, dear and old,
Whisper'd forever warm and new:
The world is in its age of gold
When two are lovers true.
Whisper'd forever warm and new:
The world is in its age of gold
When two are lovers true.
We read together: in the sun
The brooklet laugh'd through grass and flowers,
All birds were singing; two in one
We clasp'd the fragrant hours.
The brooklet laugh'd through grass and flowers,
All birds were singing; two in one
We clasp'd the fragrant hours.
The poet's flower—the rose of Love,
Whence all our costliest honey flows—
Was rooted in the book: above,
Within our hearts the rose!
Whence all our costliest honey flows—
Was rooted in the book: above,
Within our hearts the rose!
214
The poet's dream—the vision, Love,
For which all sleeping wake, I deem—
Shadow'd each page with wings: above,
Within our souls the dream!
For which all sleeping wake, I deem—
Shadow'd each page with wings: above,
Within our souls the dream!
We read of Loss that leaves the heart
A sea-shell on vague shores of fate,
Murmuring, dumb: there walk'd apart
A maiden desolate.
A sea-shell on vague shores of fate,
Murmuring, dumb: there walk'd apart
A maiden desolate.
A sail shone in the horizon's gleam
Where the moon came—a twilight ghost,
The specter of a vanish'd dream
That haunts a lonely coast.
Where the moon came—a twilight ghost,
The specter of a vanish'd dream
That haunts a lonely coast.
What spider from the rose you kiss'd
Crawl'd, that we read no more that day?
We learn in many an autumn mist
The brightness of the May.
Crawl'd, that we read no more that day?
We learn in many an autumn mist
The brightness of the May.
I turn the page—behold the prize:
The years like funeral ravens flown.
The sail 's reflected in the skies;
The shell has lost its moan.
The years like funeral ravens flown.
The sail 's reflected in the skies;
The shell has lost its moan.
215
From shade to sun, to bliss from grief!
December's warm'd by gracious May;
Oh, fools! we miss'd the golden leaf.
I read alone to-day.
December's warm'd by gracious May;
Oh, fools! we miss'd the golden leaf.
I read alone to-day.
Is it a memory or a dream?
(Eyes tender-lidded, drooping, brown!)
In that sad poem, Life, I deem,
The leaf was folded down.
(Eyes tender-lidded, drooping, brown!)
In that sad poem, Life, I deem,
The leaf was folded down.
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