 | The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley |  |
SORROW INVINCIBLE
Gray Morn with a tear in her eye,
Dim Night with a veil behind,
Soar on the rack of the billowy sky,
Float on the track of the rolling wind.
Dim Night with a veil behind,
Soar on the rack of the billowy sky,
Float on the track of the rolling wind.
The Morn with her refluent hair,
The Night with her lustrous train,
Stand on the threshold, each of them fair—
She will come, she will come again.
The Night with her lustrous train,
Stand on the threshold, each of them fair—
She will come, she will come again.
For the beautiful wood-leaves are shed
And Angels have folded each wing—
So deep is her sleep that I fear she is dead:
My Rose might have waited for spring.
And Angels have folded each wing—
So deep is her sleep that I fear she is dead:
My Rose might have waited for spring.
453
Slow, Roses, unrivet your buds,
Ye drowsy great Angels arise!
But I weep, but I weep, for I never saw sleep
So heavy on any one's eyes.
Ye drowsy great Angels arise!
But I weep, but I weep, for I never saw sleep
So heavy on any one's eyes.
Could I only abundantly weep:
My tear-drops are stinted and slow,
I am mazed, I am dazed with the sight of this thing,
The dread which I perfectly know.
My tear-drops are stinted and slow,
I am mazed, I am dazed with the sight of this thing,
The dread which I perfectly know.
Bright and light as a mystical bow,
Over seas a great iris expands,—
But I think I can certainly show
That the colour is gone from her hands.
Over seas a great iris expands,—
But I think I can certainly show
That the colour is gone from her hands.
She may sleep thro' it all, if she choose:
I shall see her again as I did,
They were cruel to drive in their screws,
They were foolish to fasten the lid.
I shall see her again as I did,
They were cruel to drive in their screws,
They were foolish to fasten the lid.
I shall have her up out of the grass
Live and clean here in front of you all.
You are wrong; I am right: she shall pass
To her chair and her work in the hall,
Live and clean here in front of you all.
You are wrong; I am right: she shall pass
To her chair and her work in the hall,
With a glad little serious sigh,
When the boys at her apron cling:
Perfectly quiet and joyfully
Righting the child's collar string:
When the boys at her apron cling:
Perfectly quiet and joyfully
Righting the child's collar string:
Setting the cradle to swing
With a tender light touch of her feet:
Taking her knitting—no phantom thing—
But a pale mother, earthborn and sweet.
With a tender light touch of her feet:
Taking her knitting—no phantom thing—
But a pale mother, earthborn and sweet.
I know she must yearn to be back,
Too young are these children she leaves:
She will come, she will come tho' the stars are dumb
And the dust to her eyelids cleaves.
Too young are these children she leaves:
She will come, she will come tho' the stars are dumb
And the dust to her eyelids cleaves.
For I saw her in moonlight gray,
Veiled round with a crescent of light;
A ray at her hand, from her hand came a ray
Like a wave on a starry night.
Veiled round with a crescent of light;
A ray at her hand, from her hand came a ray
Like a wave on a starry night.
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I saw her again, near a wall
With peach blossoms. Hatefully June
Burnt on the brick, and the paths were sick
In the drought of the furnace noon.
With peach blossoms. Hatefully June
Burnt on the brick, and the paths were sick
In the drought of the furnace noon.
I saw her as plain as my hand:
And still thro' her form, clear as glass,
I never could quite understand
How the sunbeams managed to pass.
And still thro' her form, clear as glass,
I never could quite understand
How the sunbeams managed to pass.
Or how in that garden I gazed
Beyond her, to where on a bush
A small robin sat unamazed,
And swelled out his notes like a thrush.
Beyond her, to where on a bush
A small robin sat unamazed,
And swelled out his notes like a thrush.
I shall see her again, when my head
Snaps sudden in death at one blow,
You won't keep me then in this bed,
Out of window my spirit will go.
Snaps sudden in death at one blow,
You won't keep me then in this bed,
Out of window my spirit will go.
Over seas, over seas to my Sweet,
Out into the great dawn there,
There her I shall certainly meet;
Get the children up quick round my chair!
Out into the great dawn there,
There her I shall certainly meet;
Get the children up quick round my chair!
Very soon I shall give you the slip,—
Put close their small palms into mine,
Raise them up, one by one, to my lip:—
Day breaks in a sphere red as wine.
Put close their small palms into mine,
Raise them up, one by one, to my lip:—
Day breaks in a sphere red as wine.
God lives in that river of light.
She sits on the sward where it springs,
Certainly sits. She is waiting to-night.
My dove, I soon shall gain my wings.
She sits on the sward where it springs,
Certainly sits. She is waiting to-night.
My dove, I soon shall gain my wings.
| The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley | |