 | The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury |  |
PATIENT LOVE.
I know thou lovest me not; I know
My image now must seem
A footprint in the drifting snow,
A shadow on the stream;
Yet on thy memory will I trace
A name that years can ne'er efface.
My image now must seem
A footprint in the drifting snow,
A shadow on the stream;
Yet on thy memory will I trace
A name that years can ne'er efface.
321
I know that all thy dreams of life
With brighter hopes are fraught,
Yet 'mid the future's weary strife
Will come a gentle thought,
Winning thy heart in sadness back
To pleasures in thy by-past track.
With brighter hopes are fraught,
Yet 'mid the future's weary strife
Will come a gentle thought,
Winning thy heart in sadness back
To pleasures in thy by-past track.
I would not bind thee by a spell,
Were mine a Circe's skill;
I could not love thee half so well
But for thy curbless will;
The fettered eagle ne'er should be
An emblem meet for one like thee.
Were mine a Circe's skill;
I could not love thee half so well
But for thy curbless will;
The fettered eagle ne'er should be
An emblem meet for one like thee.
I twine no garlands for thy brow,
I weave no silken tie;
Thou wert not worthy of my vow:
Couldst thou in bondage sigh?
My heart's deep faith I would not yield
To one who bore a rusted shield.
I weave no silken tie;
Thou wert not worthy of my vow:
Couldst thou in bondage sigh?
My heart's deep faith I would not yield
To one who bore a rusted shield.
Go forth in hopefulness and pride,
And while earth's joys are thine,
I ask not thou shouldst turn aside
To friendship's lowly shrine,
Where kneeleth one who there always
For thee in humble meekness prays.
And while earth's joys are thine,
I ask not thou shouldst turn aside
To friendship's lowly shrine,
Where kneeleth one who there always
For thee in humble meekness prays.
No thought in mirthful hour I claim;
But when thy sorrows come,
Then wilt thou think upon my name,
And seek thy spirit's home.
Let others share thy pleasures brief:
I only ask to bear thy grief.
But when thy sorrows come,
322
And seek thy spirit's home.
Let others share thy pleasures brief:
I only ask to bear thy grief.
To thee I am as nothing now,
And so I fain would be;
I bide the coming time when thou
Shalt fondly think of me,
And turn, when brighter hopes depart,
To rest upon my patient heart.
And so I fain would be;
I bide the coming time when thou
Shalt fondly think of me,
And turn, when brighter hopes depart,
To rest upon my patient heart.
| The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury | |