 | My Lyrical Life |  |
129
WEDDED LOVE.
130
THE YOUNG POET TO HIS WIFE.
Like those Ambassadors of old, that went
To some far Orient land, with precious gifts
Of gems to nestle between Beauty's breasts,
And crown her brows with a crest of winking flame,
Or clothe her starrily as Queenly Night;
And found that land a garden where they grew,
Lavish, as all the dews were turned to gems;
So bring I thee, Dear Lady of my love,
My jewels, I have garnered up, to find
How poor they are beside thy peerless wealth.
My Muse! that moveth in a halo of light,
Throned on the regnant heights of Womanhood;
The heart of all thy beauty warm as when
I looked out on the sunny side of Life,
And saw thee summering like a blooming Vine,
That reacheth globes of wine in at the lattice
By the ripe armful, with ambrosial smile.
The flying Cares but touch thy Life's fair face,
Lightly as swimming shadows dusk the Lake.
Come sit thee down, dear, by my side, To-night;
The world shut out, our little world shut in,
Where we are happy as the Bird whose nest
Is heavened in the hush of purple Hills,
Or regioned in the palmy top of life.
Now shut thine eyes, and see a pageant bloom
Upon the dark,—a Vision sweeping by.
To some far Orient land, with precious gifts
Of gems to nestle between Beauty's breasts,
And crown her brows with a crest of winking flame,
Or clothe her starrily as Queenly Night;
And found that land a garden where they grew,
Lavish, as all the dews were turned to gems;
So bring I thee, Dear Lady of my love,
My jewels, I have garnered up, to find
How poor they are beside thy peerless wealth.
My Muse! that moveth in a halo of light,
Throned on the regnant heights of Womanhood;
The heart of all thy beauty warm as when
I looked out on the sunny side of Life,
And saw thee summering like a blooming Vine,
That reacheth globes of wine in at the lattice
By the ripe armful, with ambrosial smile.
The flying Cares but touch thy Life's fair face,
Lightly as swimming shadows dusk the Lake.
Come sit thee down, dear, by my side, To-night;
The world shut out, our little world shut in,
Where we are happy as the Bird whose nest
131
Or regioned in the palmy top of life.
Now shut thine eyes, and see a pageant bloom
Upon the dark,—a Vision sweeping by.
I was a dweller amid Shadows grim:
Till Freedom touched my yearning eyes, and lo!
Life in a shining circle, rounding rose,
As heaven on heaven goes up the starry night.
And Freedom was my glittering Bride. For me
She walked the world as a Divinity,
Sang like a Spirit in Life's darkened ways,
I' the Rainbow reached forth girdling arms of love,
To clasp the Unapparent to the Earth,—
Turned common things to beauty: as the sun
Kindles a glory in the grass and dust,—
Went forth flame-plumed, in Chariot sublime,
And rode the winds, as one who walks the worlds.
And when the fresh Morn flowered like a Rose,
Birds sang of her, and all their happy hearts
Rang out in music, Leaves clapped faëry hands,
The flowers for joy stood tearful in her glory,
And World went singing unto World of Freedom.
And I would blazon her heroic name,
Sing such proud pæans as touch the world to tears,
Or chariot it to battle in her Cause:
For O! her softest breath, that might not stir
The summer gossamer tremulous on its throne,
Makes the crowned Tyrants start with realmless looks!
I would have given the lustre of my life
To add one jewel to her diadem!
And then You came, and Love grew lord of all.
Look how the Sun puts out the eyes of fire!
So when Love's royal glance my lattice lit,
The fires of Freedom whitened on my hearth.
The sleeping Beauty in my heart's charmed Palace
Woke at Love's kiss. My life was set aflush,
As Roses redden when the Spring moves by,
And the green buds peer out like eyes, to see
The delicate spirit whose sweet presence stirred them.
How my heart ripened in its flooding spring;
As when the sap runs up the tingling trees,
Till all the sunny life laughs out in leaves,
And lifts its fluttering wings! So my heart felt
With such brave shoots of glory bursting up,
As it had flowered for Immortality.
The heights of Being came out from their cloud,
As the cliffs kindle when the Morning comes
Swimming the utmost Sea in ruddy haste,
With foam of glory; till the flood of light,
Like mellow wine, runs down remotest hills.
You came, my sparkling Bird of Paradise!
With a soft murmuring as of winnowing wings
That fold the nest so dove-like tenderly!
With brows that parted lovely waves of hair,
And took the gazer's eye like some white Grace!
Eyes large with love; lips eloquent of love;
And cheeks fresh-misted with the bloom of Morn.
And thou didst move, a Splendour 'mid Life's Shadows,
Making a Rembrandt Picture. So the Stars
In all their glory pass the shrinking Dark.
O, I was stirred as though a Spirit went by;
Or I had met some awful Loveliness,
That haunts the realm of Dreams, or duskly floats
Across the wondering solitudes of Thought.
So Love grew lord of all.
Till Freedom touched my yearning eyes, and lo!
Life in a shining circle, rounding rose,
As heaven on heaven goes up the starry night.
And Freedom was my glittering Bride. For me
She walked the world as a Divinity,
Sang like a Spirit in Life's darkened ways,
I' the Rainbow reached forth girdling arms of love,
To clasp the Unapparent to the Earth,—
Turned common things to beauty: as the sun
Kindles a glory in the grass and dust,—
Went forth flame-plumed, in Chariot sublime,
And rode the winds, as one who walks the worlds.
And when the fresh Morn flowered like a Rose,
Birds sang of her, and all their happy hearts
Rang out in music, Leaves clapped faëry hands,
The flowers for joy stood tearful in her glory,
And World went singing unto World of Freedom.
And I would blazon her heroic name,
Sing such proud pæans as touch the world to tears,
Or chariot it to battle in her Cause:
For O! her softest breath, that might not stir
The summer gossamer tremulous on its throne,
Makes the crowned Tyrants start with realmless looks!
I would have given the lustre of my life
To add one jewel to her diadem!
132
Look how the Sun puts out the eyes of fire!
So when Love's royal glance my lattice lit,
The fires of Freedom whitened on my hearth.
The sleeping Beauty in my heart's charmed Palace
Woke at Love's kiss. My life was set aflush,
As Roses redden when the Spring moves by,
And the green buds peer out like eyes, to see
The delicate spirit whose sweet presence stirred them.
How my heart ripened in its flooding spring;
As when the sap runs up the tingling trees,
Till all the sunny life laughs out in leaves,
And lifts its fluttering wings! So my heart felt
With such brave shoots of glory bursting up,
As it had flowered for Immortality.
The heights of Being came out from their cloud,
As the cliffs kindle when the Morning comes
Swimming the utmost Sea in ruddy haste,
With foam of glory; till the flood of light,
Like mellow wine, runs down remotest hills.
You came, my sparkling Bird of Paradise!
With a soft murmuring as of winnowing wings
That fold the nest so dove-like tenderly!
With brows that parted lovely waves of hair,
And took the gazer's eye like some white Grace!
Eyes large with love; lips eloquent of love;
And cheeks fresh-misted with the bloom of Morn.
And thou didst move, a Splendour 'mid Life's Shadows,
Making a Rembrandt Picture. So the Stars
In all their glory pass the shrinking Dark.
O, I was stirred as though a Spirit went by;
Or I had met some awful Loveliness,
133
Across the wondering solitudes of Thought.
So Love grew lord of all.
I touch my lyre,
And Love o'erflows my heart, and floods my hand.
Love makes all dear delights so soothly sweet,
Life pants heart-stifled 'neath its luscious load,
Like young Earth clasped in June's voluptuous arms,
Faint with her fragrance, flooded in her flowers.
Love is divine life, Beauty is its smile.
O, Love will make the killing crown of thorn
Burst into blossom on the Martyr's brow!
Upon Love's bosom Earth floats like an Ark
Through all the o'erwhelming Deluge of the night.
Love rays us round as glory swathes a star,
And, from the mystic touch of lips and palms,
Streams rosy warmth enough to light a world:
And Spirit-eyes, from out the purpling glooms,
Mark how we feed this human Altar-flame;
How speeds this ripening into Deity;
What glittering robes for immortality
Trail starry radiance through our dark of Earth!
And in our home thy presence maketh Love
A Mortal, who hath died to rise again,
Immortal, in its nobler life with thee.
And Love o'erflows my heart, and floods my hand.
Love makes all dear delights so soothly sweet,
Life pants heart-stifled 'neath its luscious load,
Like young Earth clasped in June's voluptuous arms,
Faint with her fragrance, flooded in her flowers.
Love is divine life, Beauty is its smile.
O, Love will make the killing crown of thorn
Burst into blossom on the Martyr's brow!
Upon Love's bosom Earth floats like an Ark
Through all the o'erwhelming Deluge of the night.
Love rays us round as glory swathes a star,
And, from the mystic touch of lips and palms,
Streams rosy warmth enough to light a world:
And Spirit-eyes, from out the purpling glooms,
Mark how we feed this human Altar-flame;
How speeds this ripening into Deity;
What glittering robes for immortality
Trail starry radiance through our dark of Earth!
And in our home thy presence maketh Love
A Mortal, who hath died to rise again,
Immortal, in its nobler life with thee.
O Love! make clear my vision, roll thou up
My orb of Song from Passion's misting deeps
To climb the heavens, and win the eternal calm;
And though it shine not 'mid the Suns of Song,
To set the World sweet-murmuring in its light,
A Memnon, at the radiant touch of Dawn,
I know each Star hath its own perfect place
Above, though it may have no name on Earth.
I hope my hope, I dream my dream, that life
With me shall yet ring out melodious, 'twixt
The silences of heaven and the grave.
My orb of Song from Passion's misting deeps
To climb the heavens, and win the eternal calm;
And though it shine not 'mid the Suns of Song,
To set the World sweet-murmuring in its light,
A Memnon, at the radiant touch of Dawn,
134
Above, though it may have no name on Earth.
I hope my hope, I dream my dream, that life
With me shall yet ring out melodious, 'twixt
The silences of heaven and the grave.
O Labour! blind and feeling for the day!
Might I go forth to peer with eagle ken
Into the blessed land of promise, where
The Future like a fruitfuller Summer sits
Ripening Her Eden silently, to bear
The crowning flower of consummated Life,—
Where Freedom's Song-Birds fly, to build their nests,
And warm to life their brood of darling dreams:
Then see thy dark look lighten at my news,
Thy dim eyes dance divinely at the grapes;
To loftier music time thy larger step;
And hearten thee to lift up onward brows!
Might I go forth to peer with eagle ken
Into the blessed land of promise, where
The Future like a fruitfuller Summer sits
Ripening Her Eden silently, to bear
The crowning flower of consummated Life,—
Where Freedom's Song-Birds fly, to build their nests,
And warm to life their brood of darling dreams:
Then see thy dark look lighten at my news,
Thy dim eyes dance divinely at the grapes;
To loftier music time thy larger step;
And hearten thee to lift up onward brows!
I see a shape behind a mist, that burns
In the flushed distance of some unseen Goal;
It grows with gazing on, like Lovers' beauty.
With beckoning smiles the Glory draws me near;
One hand points up, one holds a leafy crown,
For me to climb and wear with manlier growth:
And airy Voices call me, bid me leap
In Victory's Car as it goes bickering by.
And Thou, dear Wife! with exultation lit,
Wilt drop proud tears to enrich my wine of joy,—
A costlier cup than ever Anthony's Queen
Magnificent! drank in her voluptuous vein!
In the flushed distance of some unseen Goal;
It grows with gazing on, like Lovers' beauty.
With beckoning smiles the Glory draws me near;
One hand points up, one holds a leafy crown,
For me to climb and wear with manlier growth:
And airy Voices call me, bid me leap
In Victory's Car as it goes bickering by.
And Thou, dear Wife! with exultation lit,
Wilt drop proud tears to enrich my wine of joy,—
A costlier cup than ever Anthony's Queen
Magnificent! drank in her voluptuous vein!
135
LONG EXPECTED.
O many and many a day before we met,
I knew some Spirit walked the world alone,
Awaiting the Beloved from afar;
And I was the anointed chosen one
Of all the world to crown her queenly brows
With the imperial crown of human love,
And light its glory in her happy look.
I saw not with mine eyes so full of mist,
But heard Faith's low sweet singing in the night,
And groping through the darkness, touched God's hand.
My heart might toil on blindly, but, like earth,
It kept sure footing through the thickest gloom.
I knew my sunshine somewhere warmed the world,
Though I trode darkling in a perilous way;
And I should reach it in His own good time
Who sendeth sun, and dew, and love for all.
I knew some Spirit walked the world alone,
Awaiting the Beloved from afar;
And I was the anointed chosen one
Of all the world to crown her queenly brows
With the imperial crown of human love,
And light its glory in her happy look.
I saw not with mine eyes so full of mist,
But heard Faith's low sweet singing in the night,
And groping through the darkness, touched God's hand.
My heart might toil on blindly, but, like earth,
It kept sure footing through the thickest gloom.
I knew my sunshine somewhere warmed the world,
Though I trode darkling in a perilous way;
And I should reach it in His own good time
Who sendeth sun, and dew, and love for all.
Earth, with her many voices, talked of thee!—
Low winds, and whispering leaves, and piping birds;
The amorous sunlight, and the virgin dews;
Eve's crimson air and light of twinkling gold;
Spring's kindled greenery, and her breath of balm;
The dance of happiness in summer woods,
To silver dulcimer of sun-shot rain.
Thine eyes oped with their rainy lights, and laughters,
In April's tearful heaven of tender blue,
With all the changeful beauty melting through them,—
Dawn opened, Sunset ended, in thy face.
And standing as in Love's own presence-chamber,
When silence lay like sleep upon the world,
And it seemed rich to die, alone with Night,
The Stars have trembled through the holy hush,
And smiled down tenderly, and read to me
The love hid for me in a budding breast,
Like fragrance folded in a young flower's heart.
Strong as a sea-swell came the wave of wings,
Strange trouble trembled through my inner depths,
And answering wings have sprung within my soul:
And from the dumb waste places of the dark,
A voice has sighed, “She comes!” and ebbed again;
While all my life stood listening for thy coming:
I guessed the presence that I might not see,
And felt it in the beating of my heart.
When all was dark within, sweet thoughts would come,
As starry guests swim golden down the gloom,
And through Night's lattice smile a rare delight:
While, lifted for the dear and distant Dawn,
The face of all things wore a happy look,
Like those dream-smiles which are the speech of Sleep.
Thus Love lived on, and strengthened with the days,
Lit by its own true light within my heart,
Like a live diamond burning in the dark.
Low winds, and whispering leaves, and piping birds;
The amorous sunlight, and the virgin dews;
Eve's crimson air and light of twinkling gold;
Spring's kindled greenery, and her breath of balm;
The dance of happiness in summer woods,
To silver dulcimer of sun-shot rain.
Thine eyes oped with their rainy lights, and laughters,
In April's tearful heaven of tender blue,
With all the changeful beauty melting through them,—
136
And standing as in Love's own presence-chamber,
When silence lay like sleep upon the world,
And it seemed rich to die, alone with Night,
The Stars have trembled through the holy hush,
And smiled down tenderly, and read to me
The love hid for me in a budding breast,
Like fragrance folded in a young flower's heart.
Strong as a sea-swell came the wave of wings,
Strange trouble trembled through my inner depths,
And answering wings have sprung within my soul:
And from the dumb waste places of the dark,
A voice has sighed, “She comes!” and ebbed again;
While all my life stood listening for thy coming:
I guessed the presence that I might not see,
And felt it in the beating of my heart.
When all was dark within, sweet thoughts would come,
As starry guests swim golden down the gloom,
And through Night's lattice smile a rare delight:
While, lifted for the dear and distant Dawn,
The face of all things wore a happy look,
Like those dream-smiles which are the speech of Sleep.
Thus Love lived on, and strengthened with the days,
Lit by its own true light within my heart,
Like a live diamond burning in the dark.
Then came there One, a mirage of the Dawn;
She swam on towards me sumptuous in her triumph,
Voluptuously upborne, like Aphrodité
Upon a meadowy swell of emerald sea.
A ripe, serene, smile-affluent graciousness
Hung like a shifting radiance on her motion,
As feathered flames upon the Dove's neck burn.
Her lip might flush a wrinkled life in bloom!
Her eyes had an omnipotence of power!
“O eyes!” I said, “if such your glories be,
Sure 'tis a warm heart feedeth ye with light!”
The silver throbbing of her laughter pulsed
The air with music rich and resonant,—
As, from the deep heart of a summer night,
Some bird with sudden sparklings of fine sound
Strikes all the startled stillness into song.
And from her sumptuous wealth of golden hair
Down to the delicate, pearly finger-tip,
Fresh beauty trembled from its thousand springs:
And standing in the outer porch of life,
All eager for the templed mysteries,
With a full heart as rich in fragrant love
As the musk-roses are of morning's wine,
What marvel if I questioned not her brow,
For the flame-signet of the Hand divine,
Or gauged it for the crown of my large love?
I plunged to clutch the pearl of her babbling beauty,
Like some swift diver in a shallow stream,
That smites his life out on its heart of stone.
Ah! how my life did run with fire and tears!
With what a passionate pulse my love did beat!
But she, rose-warm without,—God pity her—
Was cold at heart as snow in last year's nest,
And struck like death into my burning brain.
Just passing with her wanton robes afloat,
She brushed and blurred the hues of my young life,
As one may smear a picture while 'tis wet.
My tears, that rained out love, she froze in falling,
And wore them, jewel-like, to deck her triumph!
She swam on towards me sumptuous in her triumph,
Voluptuously upborne, like Aphrodité
Upon a meadowy swell of emerald sea.
A ripe, serene, smile-affluent graciousness
137
As feathered flames upon the Dove's neck burn.
Her lip might flush a wrinkled life in bloom!
Her eyes had an omnipotence of power!
“O eyes!” I said, “if such your glories be,
Sure 'tis a warm heart feedeth ye with light!”
The silver throbbing of her laughter pulsed
The air with music rich and resonant,—
As, from the deep heart of a summer night,
Some bird with sudden sparklings of fine sound
Strikes all the startled stillness into song.
And from her sumptuous wealth of golden hair
Down to the delicate, pearly finger-tip,
Fresh beauty trembled from its thousand springs:
And standing in the outer porch of life,
All eager for the templed mysteries,
With a full heart as rich in fragrant love
As the musk-roses are of morning's wine,
What marvel if I questioned not her brow,
For the flame-signet of the Hand divine,
Or gauged it for the crown of my large love?
I plunged to clutch the pearl of her babbling beauty,
Like some swift diver in a shallow stream,
That smites his life out on its heart of stone.
Ah! how my life did run with fire and tears!
With what a passionate pulse my love did beat!
But she, rose-warm without,—God pity her—
Was cold at heart as snow in last year's nest,
And struck like death into my burning brain.
Just passing with her wanton robes afloat,
She brushed and blurred the hues of my young life,
As one may smear a picture while 'tis wet.
138
And wore them, jewel-like, to deck her triumph!
But love is never lost, though hearts run waste;
Its tides may gush 'mid swirling, swathing deserts,
Where no green leaf drinks up the precious life:
True love doth evermore enrich itself,—
Its bitterest waters run some golden sands.
No star goes down but climbs in other skies;
The flower of Sunset folds its glory up,
To burst again from out the bosom of Dawn;
And love is never lost, though hearts run waste,
And sorrow makes the chastened soul a seer;
The deepest dark reveals the starriest hope,
And Faith can trust her heaven behind the veil.
Its tides may gush 'mid swirling, swathing deserts,
Where no green leaf drinks up the precious life:
True love doth evermore enrich itself,—
Its bitterest waters run some golden sands.
No star goes down but climbs in other skies;
The flower of Sunset folds its glory up,
To burst again from out the bosom of Dawn;
And love is never lost, though hearts run waste,
And sorrow makes the chastened soul a seer;
The deepest dark reveals the starriest hope,
And Faith can trust her heaven behind the veil.
WOOED AND WON.
The plough of Time breaks up our Eden-land,
And tramples down its flowery virgin prime.
Yet through the dust of ages living shoots
O' the old immortal seed start in the furrows:
And, where Love looketh on with lustrous eye,
These quickened germs of everlastingness
Flower lusty, as in fabled Paradise!
And tramples down its flowery virgin prime.
Yet through the dust of ages living shoots
O' the old immortal seed start in the furrows:
And, where Love looketh on with lustrous eye,
These quickened germs of everlastingness
Flower lusty, as in fabled Paradise!
And blessings on the starry chance of love!—
And blessings on the morn of merry May!
That led my footsteps to your leafy bower.
Thus hangs the picture in my mind, sweet wife!
Clear as a Millais in its tint and tone.
Nature drew near me with her glorious shows,
And smiled to hear her young things all at play.
The birds were singing on the blossoming sprays,
With Love's sweet mystery stirring at their hearts,
Like first spring-motions in the veins o' the flowers.
A light of green laughed up the shining hills,
That rounded through the mellowing, gloating air,
As their big hearts heaved to some heart beyond,
Or strove with inner yearnings for the crown
Of purple rondure hung far-off in heaven!
The Flowers were forth in all their conquering beauty
And, winking in their Mother Earth's old face,
Said all her children should have happy hearts.
And blessings on the morn of merry May!
That led my footsteps to your leafy bower.
Thus hangs the picture in my mind, sweet wife!
Clear as a Millais in its tint and tone.
Nature drew near me with her glorious shows,
139
The birds were singing on the blossoming sprays,
With Love's sweet mystery stirring at their hearts,
Like first spring-motions in the veins o' the flowers.
A light of green laughed up the shining hills,
That rounded through the mellowing, gloating air,
As their big hearts heaved to some heart beyond,
Or strove with inner yearnings for the crown
Of purple rondure hung far-off in heaven!
The Flowers were forth in all their conquering beauty
And, winking in their Mother Earth's old face,
Said all her children should have happy hearts.
Deeper and deeper in the wood's green gloom
I nestled for the fever at life's core:
And thirstily my heart was drinking in
Rich overflowings of some Cushat's love;
When lo! the air instinct with glory grew,
As if the world, while on her starry journey,
Found sudden harbour in the clime of heaven.
Upon a primrose bank you sat,—a sight
To couch the old blind sorrow of my soul!
A sweet, new blossom of Humanity,
Fresh fallen from God's own home to flower on earth.
A golden burst of sunbeams glinted through
The verdurous roof's lush-leavy greenery,
And on you dropped its crown of wavering light.
Your eyes—half shut, while through their silken eaves
Trembled the secret sweetness hid at heart—
Oped sudden at full, and wide with wonderment!
I nestled for the fever at life's core:
And thirstily my heart was drinking in
Rich overflowings of some Cushat's love;
When lo! the air instinct with glory grew,
As if the world, while on her starry journey,
Found sudden harbour in the clime of heaven.
Upon a primrose bank you sat,—a sight
To couch the old blind sorrow of my soul!
A sweet, new blossom of Humanity,
Fresh fallen from God's own home to flower on earth.
A golden burst of sunbeams glinted through
The verdurous roof's lush-leavy greenery,
And on you dropped its crown of wavering light.
Your eyes—half shut, while through their silken eaves
Trembled the secret sweetness hid at heart—
Oped sudden at full, and wide with wonderment!
140
The sweetest eyes that ever drank sun for soul:
As subtly tender as a summer heaven,
Brimmed with the beauty of a starry night!
Your face, so dewy fresh and wondrous fair,
Kindled as Love transfiguringly rose
Like heavenward martyr through a birth of fire!
The fleetest swallow-dip of a tender smile
Ran round your mouth in thrillings; while your cheek
Dimpled, as from the arch God's finger print;
Out flew his signal, fluttering in a flush!
And when your voice broke up the air for music,
It smote upon my startled heart as smites
The new-born babe's first cry a mother's ear,
Yet strangely touched some mystic memory,
And dimly seemed an old pre-natal sound.
As subtly tender as a summer heaven,
Brimmed with the beauty of a starry night!
Your face, so dewy fresh and wondrous fair,
Kindled as Love transfiguringly rose
Like heavenward martyr through a birth of fire!
The fleetest swallow-dip of a tender smile
Ran round your mouth in thrillings; while your cheek
Dimpled, as from the arch God's finger print;
Out flew his signal, fluttering in a flush!
And when your voice broke up the air for music,
It smote upon my startled heart as smites
The new-born babe's first cry a mother's ear,
Yet strangely touched some mystic memory,
And dimly seemed an old pre-natal sound.
That day, with an immortalizing kiss,
You crowned me monarch of your rich heart-world,
Which heaved a boundless sea of love, whose tides
Ran radiant pulsings through your rosy limbs.
How the love-lights did float up in your eyes,
Star after star from violet depths of night!
Dear eyes! all craving with Love's ache and hunger!
And all the spirit stood in your face athirst!
And from the rose-cup of your murmuring mouth
Sweetness o'erflowed, as from a fragrant fount.
O kiss of life! that oped our Eden-world!
The very earth heaved bosom-like, and heaven
Clung round and clasped us as in glowing arms,
To crush the wine of all your ripened beauty,
Which were a fitting sacrament for death—
Into a richer cup of life for me.
You crowned me monarch of your rich heart-world,
Which heaved a boundless sea of love, whose tides
Ran radiant pulsings through your rosy limbs.
How the love-lights did float up in your eyes,
Star after star from violet depths of night!
Dear eyes! all craving with Love's ache and hunger!
And all the spirit stood in your face athirst!
And from the rose-cup of your murmuring mouth
Sweetness o'erflowed, as from a fragrant fount.
O kiss of life! that oped our Eden-world!
The very earth heaved bosom-like, and heaven
Clung round and clasped us as in glowing arms,
To crush the wine of all your ripened beauty,
Which were a fitting sacrament for death—
Into a richer cup of life for me.
141
THE BRIDAL.
She comes! the blushing Bridal Dawn,
With her Auroral splendours on,
And green Earth never lovelier shone:
With her Auroral splendours on,
And green Earth never lovelier shone:
She floateth on her azure way,
In dainty dalliance with the May,
Jubilant o'er the happy day!
In dainty dalliance with the May,
Jubilant o'er the happy day!
Earth weareth heaven for marriage-ring,
And the best garland of glory, Spring
From out old Winter's world could bring.
And the best garland of glory, Spring
From out old Winter's world could bring.
All in white are the hawthorn boughs,
The green blood reddens in the Rose,
And every May-bud swells or glows.
The green blood reddens in the Rose,
And every May-bud swells or glows.
The Apple-tree on its green bough
Hath caught a cloud of rosy snow;
Up in the blue the Chestnuts blow.
Hath caught a cloud of rosy snow;
Up in the blue the Chestnuts blow.
Cloud-shadow-ships swim faërily
Over the greenery's sunny sea,
That runs and ripples down the lea.
Over the greenery's sunny sea,
That runs and ripples down the lea.
The birds a-brooding, strive to sing,
Feeling the life warm under the wing:
Their love, too, blossoms with the Spring!
Feeling the life warm under the wing:
Their love, too, blossoms with the Spring!
The winds that make the flowers blow,
Heavy with balm, breathe soft and low,
All budding warmth, and amorous glow!
Heavy with balm, breathe soft and low,
All budding warmth, and amorous glow!
142
Such a delicious feel doth flood
The eyes, as laves the burning bud
When cool rains feed ambrosial blood.
The eyes, as laves the burning bud
When cool rains feed ambrosial blood.
Merrily Life doth revel and reign!
Light in heart, and blithe in brain;
Running like wine in every vein.
Light in heart, and blithe in brain;
Running like wine in every vein.
Alive with eyes, the Village sees
The Bridal dawning from the trees,
And Housewives swarm i' the sun like Bees.
The Bridal dawning from the trees,
And Housewives swarm i' the sun like Bees.
All silent yet the Belfrey-Choir!
Up in the twinkling air the spire
Throbs, golden in the bickering fire.
Up in the twinkling air the spire
Throbs, golden in the bickering fire.
The winking windows burn and blush
With colours rare as flow and flush
Through summer sunsets bloomed and hush.
With colours rare as flow and flush
Through summer sunsets bloomed and hush.
But, enter: rarer splendours brim,
Such mists of gold and purple swim,
And the light falls so rich and dim.
Such mists of gold and purple swim,
And the light falls so rich and dim.
Even so doth Love Life's doors unbar,
Where all the hidden glories are,
That from the windows shine afar.
Where all the hidden glories are,
That from the windows shine afar.
Love's lovely to the passers-by,
But they who love are regioned high
On hills of Bliss, with heaven nigh.
But they who love are regioned high
On hills of Bliss, with heaven nigh.
Dainty as Iris, when she swims
With rainbow robe on lightsome limbs,
The Bride's rare beauty overbrims!
With rainbow robe on lightsome limbs,
The Bride's rare beauty overbrims!
143
The gazers drink rich overflows,
Her cheek a livelier damask glows,
And on his arm she leans more close.
Her cheek a livelier damask glows,
And on his arm she leans more close.
A drunken joy reels in his blood,
He wanders an enchanted wood;
She ranges realms of perfect good.
He wanders an enchanted wood;
She ranges realms of perfect good.
Dear God! that he alone hath grace
To light such splendour in her face,
And win the blessing of embrace!
To light such splendour in her face,
And win the blessing of embrace!
She wears her maiden modesty
With tearful grace touched tenderly,
Yet with a ripe Expectancy
With tearful grace touched tenderly,
Yet with a ripe Expectancy
Her virgin veil reveals a form,
Flowering from the bud so warm,
It needs must break the Cestus-charm.
Flowering from the bud so warm,
It needs must break the Cestus-charm.
Last night, with her white wedding arms,
And thoughts that thronged with quaint alarms,
She trembled o'er her mirrored charms,
And thoughts that thronged with quaint alarms,
She trembled o'er her mirrored charms,
Like Eve first-glassing her new life;
And the Maid startled at the Wife,
Heart-painèd with herself at strife.
And the Maid startled at the Wife,
Heart-painèd with herself at strife.
The unknown sea moans on her shore
Of life: she hears the breakers roar;
But, trusting Him, she fears no more;
Of life: she hears the breakers roar;
But, trusting Him, she fears no more;
For, o'er the deep seas there is calm,
Full as the hush of all-heaven's psalm:
The golden goal,—the Victor's palm!
Full as the hush of all-heaven's psalm:
The golden goal,—the Victor's palm!
144
And at her heart Love sits and sings,
And broodeth warmth, begetting wings
Shall lift her life to higher things.
And broodeth warmth, begetting wings
Shall lift her life to higher things.
The Blessing given, the ring is on;
And at God's Altar radiant run
The currents of two lives in one!
And at God's Altar radiant run
The currents of two lives in one!
Hushed with happiness, every sense
Is crowded at the heart intense;
And silence hath most eloquence!
Is crowded at the heart intense;
And silence hath most eloquence!
Down to his feet her meek eyes stoop,
As there her love should pour its cup;
But, like a King, he lifts them up.
As there her love should pour its cup;
But, like a King, he lifts them up.
Her flashing face to heaven up-turns,
There for a Mother's kiss it yearns:
Through all her life Hope's sunrise burns!
There for a Mother's kiss it yearns:
Through all her life Hope's sunrise burns!
And now she trembles to his breast,
To proudly crown his loving quest;
And make it aye her happy nest.
To proudly crown his loving quest;
And make it aye her happy nest.
His arms her hyacinth head caress,
And fold her fragrant slenderness,
With all its touching tenderness.
And fold her fragrant slenderness,
With all its touching tenderness.
Now, on heaven's coast of crystal, crowned
Hesperus lights life's outward-bound:
And Evening palls her purple round.
Hesperus lights life's outward-bound:
And Evening palls her purple round.
A palace rich with glorious shows
She maketh his life's narrow house
To-night: but there he keeps no rouse!
She maketh his life's narrow house
To-night: but there he keeps no rouse!
145
Alone they hold their marriage-feast:
Fresh from the Chrism of the Priest,
He would not have the happiest jest
Fresh from the Chrism of the Priest,
He would not have the happiest jest
To storm her brows with a crimson fine;
And, sooth, they need no wings of wine
To waft them into Love's divine.
And, sooth, they need no wings of wine
To waft them into Love's divine.
So Strength and Beauty, hand-in-hand,
Go forth into the honeyed land,
Lit by the love-moon golden-grand,
Go forth into the honeyed land,
Lit by the love-moon golden-grand,
Where God hath built their Bridal-bower;
And on the top of life they tower,
To taste their Eden's perfect hour.
And on the top of life they tower,
To taste their Eden's perfect hour.
No lewd eyes o'er my shoulder look!
They do but ope the blessed book
Of Marriage, in their hallowed nook.
They do but ope the blessed book
Of Marriage, in their hallowed nook.
O, flowery be the paths they press,
And ruddiest human fruitage bless
Them, with a lavish loveliness!
And ruddiest human fruitage bless
Them, with a lavish loveliness!
Melodious move their wedded life
Through shocks of time, and storms of strife,—
Husband true, and perfect wife!
Through shocks of time, and storms of strife,—
Husband true, and perfect wife!
WEDDED LOVE.
The summer Night comes brooding over Earth,
As Love comes brooding down on human hearts,
With bliss that hath no utterance save rich tears.
She floats in fragrance through the smiling dark,
Foldeth a kiss upon the lips of Life,
Curtaineth into rest the weary world,
And shuts us in with all our hid delight.
The stars come sparkling through the tender gloom,
Like dew-drops in the fields of heaven; or tears
That hang their jewels on the face of Night.
A spirit-feel comes down the calm, and soft
The Flowers fold their cups like praying hands,
And with drooped head await the blessing, Night
Gives with her Motherly magnanimity.
As Love comes brooding down on human hearts,
With bliss that hath no utterance save rich tears.
She floats in fragrance through the smiling dark,
Foldeth a kiss upon the lips of Life,
146
And shuts us in with all our hid delight.
The stars come sparkling through the tender gloom,
Like dew-drops in the fields of heaven; or tears
That hang their jewels on the face of Night.
A spirit-feel comes down the calm, and soft
The Flowers fold their cups like praying hands,
And with drooped head await the blessing, Night
Gives with her Motherly magnanimity.
'Tis evening with the world; but in my soul
The light of wedded love is still at dawn
Around my world, an everlasting Dawn.
My heart rings out in music, like a Lark
Hung in the charmèd palace of the Morn,
That circles singing to its mate i' the nest,
With luminous being running o'er in song:
So my life flutters round its mate at home!
There, with her eyes turned on her heart, she reads
The golden secrets written in its book,
And broodeth o'er its hidden wealth of love,
As Night i' the hush and halo of her beauty
Bares throbbing heaven to its most tremulous depths,
And broods in silence o'er her starry wealth.
The light of wedded love is still at dawn
Around my world, an everlasting Dawn.
My heart rings out in music, like a Lark
Hung in the charmèd palace of the Morn,
That circles singing to its mate i' the nest,
With luminous being running o'er in song:
So my life flutters round its mate at home!
There, with her eyes turned on her heart, she reads
The golden secrets written in its book,
And broodeth o'er its hidden wealth of love,
As Night i' the hush and halo of her beauty
Bares throbbing heaven to its most tremulous depths,
And broods in silence o'er her starry wealth.
And, fingering in her bosom's soft, white nest,
A fair babe, beautiful as Dawn in heaven,
Made of a Mother's richest thoughts of love,—
Lies like a smile of sunshine among lilies,
That giveth glory—drinking fragrant life.
Sweet bud upon a Rose! our plot of spring,
And burst of bloom amid a wintry world!
How dear it is to mark the look of life
Deepen, and darken, in her large, round eyes,—
To watch the other rose put forth its leaves,
And guess the perfumed secret of its heart;
To catch the silver words that come to break
The golden silence hung like heaven around!
A fair babe, beautiful as Dawn in heaven,
Made of a Mother's richest thoughts of love,—
Lies like a smile of sunshine among lilies,
That giveth glory—drinking fragrant life.
Sweet bud upon a Rose! our plot of spring,
And burst of bloom amid a wintry world!
How dear it is to mark the look of life
147
To watch the other rose put forth its leaves,
And guess the perfumed secret of its heart;
To catch the silver words that come to break
The golden silence hung like heaven around!
But lo, my hush of thought is thrilling, as
A wood at night brims o'er with sudden song:
Dear Wife! with rich, low voice, she syllables
Some precious music hoarded in her heart,
And I am flooded with melodious rain,
Like Nature standing crowned with sunlit showers.
A wood at night brims o'er with sudden song:
Dear Wife! with rich, low voice, she syllables
Some precious music hoarded in her heart,
And I am flooded with melodious rain,
Like Nature standing crowned with sunlit showers.
“As the heaving heart o' the Sea yearneth everlastingly
For the Moon, heaven-charmèd by her influence:
And as Star to Star with love palpitateth like a dove,
So my heart yearns up to his bright eminence.
For the Moon, heaven-charmèd by her influence:
And as Star to Star with love palpitateth like a dove,
So my heart yearns up to his bright eminence.
“For my Love, he seems to stand where Heaven leans so near at hand,
That from other worlds his lineaments take light:
And he fills my cup of wonder, flooding all my life with splendour,
As a glorious, golden Moon fills all the night.
That from other worlds his lineaments take light:
And he fills my cup of wonder, flooding all my life with splendour,
As a glorious, golden Moon fills all the night.
“At the music of his words my heart carols like a bird's,
And rich instincts burst from out it like heaven-flowers;
Wings bud in me at his kiss, all my being brims with bliss,
As a valley brims with life in spring-tide hours.
And rich instincts burst from out it like heaven-flowers;
Wings bud in me at his kiss, all my being brims with bliss,
As a valley brims with life in spring-tide hours.
148
“For my life was dark and cold as the night-dews on the wold,
Waiting to be made alive with fire of dawn;
Till his presence on me lightened, and his blessing on me brightened,
And my life like dews lit up for heaven shone.”
Waiting to be made alive with fire of dawn;
Till his presence on me lightened, and his blessing on me brightened,
And my life like dews lit up for heaven shone.”
Nay, Sweet Heart! that should be my song, who search
Love's lore in vain for fit similitudes
To symbol what thy love hath been to me.
The God lies prisoned in the mountain stone,
The muffled Music slumbers in the strings,
Awaiting the Deliverer's magic touch!
So, thou belovèd! did I wait for Thee,
To waken at thy touch. My Tree of being
But made blind gropings in the dark, cold earth,
And moaned and trembled in the wintry air,
Stretching out naked hands to pluck at life:
Until you came, with all your light, and warmth,
Encircling round it like a summer heaven,
And fed, and clad it with your fragrant beauty,
Till budding branches burst on fire with bloom,
And into ripe fruits mellowed goldenly.
My life lay barren as a desolate moor
That breaks, and burns, in twinkling green and gold,
When Spring gives greeting with her kiss of life.
Love's lore in vain for fit similitudes
To symbol what thy love hath been to me.
The God lies prisoned in the mountain stone,
The muffled Music slumbers in the strings,
Awaiting the Deliverer's magic touch!
So, thou belovèd! did I wait for Thee,
To waken at thy touch. My Tree of being
But made blind gropings in the dark, cold earth,
And moaned and trembled in the wintry air,
Stretching out naked hands to pluck at life:
Until you came, with all your light, and warmth,
Encircling round it like a summer heaven,
And fed, and clad it with your fragrant beauty,
Till budding branches burst on fire with bloom,
And into ripe fruits mellowed goldenly.
My life lay barren as a desolate moor
That breaks, and burns, in twinkling green and gold,
When Spring gives greeting with her kiss of life.
As weary earth goes darkling through the night,
So my heart toiled on, tearful with its burthen:
No beacon burned through all the gloom, to break
The sea of dark, with shining piers of light:
Then on a sudden rose the blessed Morn,
Sun-crowned my life, made all things beautiful,
And gave the world its Eden-robes again.
My spirit rose up orient with light;
Thy presence caught my heart up at the leap,
Winged like a young world from the hands of God!
Methought a thousand graves of buried hopes
Could crush it not from its proud eminence.
The Future's dim cloud-curtain rent in twain,
And lightened radiant revelation: All
Life's purpose dawned, as unto dying eyes
The dark of Death doth glisten into stars.
So my heart toiled on, tearful with its burthen:
No beacon burned through all the gloom, to break
149
Then on a sudden rose the blessed Morn,
Sun-crowned my life, made all things beautiful,
And gave the world its Eden-robes again.
My spirit rose up orient with light;
Thy presence caught my heart up at the leap,
Winged like a young world from the hands of God!
Methought a thousand graves of buried hopes
Could crush it not from its proud eminence.
The Future's dim cloud-curtain rent in twain,
And lightened radiant revelation: All
Life's purpose dawned, as unto dying eyes
The dark of Death doth glisten into stars.
And since we met, thy life-long thought hath been
To be cup-bearer of the wine of joy
To one leal heart, and to make rich one life.
Pulse after pulse, thy life hath mixed with mine,
Like sea-waves hurrying up the beach to crown
Their shore, and break in starry showers of light.
Thou hast brought radiant sunrise every morn,
Renewing all the glory passed away.
Thy tender love hath twined about my life,
Like the fair Woodbine wedded to the Thorn;
Hiding its harshness with her wealth of flowers!
My heart drinks inspiration at thine eyes,
And lights my brain up as with fragrant flame:
Sweet eyes of starry tenderness, through which
The soul of some immortal sorrow looks!
Sorrow that addeth grace to loveliness,
As its sad bloom enricheth the ripe fruit.
Dear Eyes! they have a radiant Alchemy,
And pierce my being with such quickening light
As makes my heart a jewel-mine of love;
Even as the Sun strikes through the dark cold Earth,
And fires her million veins with precious life.
To be cup-bearer of the wine of joy
To one leal heart, and to make rich one life.
Pulse after pulse, thy life hath mixed with mine,
Like sea-waves hurrying up the beach to crown
Their shore, and break in starry showers of light.
Thou hast brought radiant sunrise every morn,
Renewing all the glory passed away.
Thy tender love hath twined about my life,
Like the fair Woodbine wedded to the Thorn;
Hiding its harshness with her wealth of flowers!
My heart drinks inspiration at thine eyes,
And lights my brain up as with fragrant flame:
Sweet eyes of starry tenderness, through which
The soul of some immortal sorrow looks!
Sorrow that addeth grace to loveliness,
As its sad bloom enricheth the ripe fruit.
Dear Eyes! they have a radiant Alchemy,
And pierce my being with such quickening light
150
Even as the Sun strikes through the dark cold Earth,
And fires her million veins with precious life.
My Life ran like a river in rocky ways,
And seaward dashed, a sounding cataract!
But thine was like a quiet lake of beauty,
Soft-shadowed round by gracious influences,
That gathers silently its wealth of earth,
And woos heaven till it melts down into it.
They mingled: and the glory, and the calm,
Closed round me, brooding into perfect rest.
O blessings on thy true and tender heart!
How it hath gone forth like the Dove of old,
To bring some leaf of promise in Life's deluge!
Thou hast a strong up-soaring tendency,
That bears me God-ward, as the stalwart oak
Uplifts the clinging vine, and gives it growth.
Thy reverent heart familiarly doth take
Unconscious clasp of high and holy things,
And trusteth where it may not understand.
We have had sorrows, love! and wept the tears
That run the rose-hue from the cheek of Life;
But Grief hath jewels as Night hath her stars,
And she revealeth what we ne'er had known,
With Joy-wreaths danced about o'er our blinded eyes.
The heart is like an instrument whose strings
Steal nobler music from Life's many frets:
The golden threads are spun through Suffering's fire,
Wherewith the marriage-robes for heaven are woven:
And all the rarest hues of human life
Take radiance, and are rainbowed out in tears.
And seaward dashed, a sounding cataract!
But thine was like a quiet lake of beauty,
Soft-shadowed round by gracious influences,
That gathers silently its wealth of earth,
And woos heaven till it melts down into it.
They mingled: and the glory, and the calm,
Closed round me, brooding into perfect rest.
O blessings on thy true and tender heart!
How it hath gone forth like the Dove of old,
To bring some leaf of promise in Life's deluge!
Thou hast a strong up-soaring tendency,
That bears me God-ward, as the stalwart oak
Uplifts the clinging vine, and gives it growth.
Thy reverent heart familiarly doth take
Unconscious clasp of high and holy things,
And trusteth where it may not understand.
We have had sorrows, love! and wept the tears
That run the rose-hue from the cheek of Life;
But Grief hath jewels as Night hath her stars,
And she revealeth what we ne'er had known,
With Joy-wreaths danced about o'er our blinded eyes.
The heart is like an instrument whose strings
Steal nobler music from Life's many frets:
The golden threads are spun through Suffering's fire,
Wherewith the marriage-robes for heaven are woven:
151
Take radiance, and are rainbowed out in tears.
Thou'rt little changed, dear love! since we were wed.
Thy beauty hath climaxed like a crescent Moon,
With glory greatening to the golden full.
Thy flowers of spring are crowned with summer fruits,
And thou hast put a queenlier presence on
With thy regality of Womanhood!
Yet Time but toucheth thee with mellowing shades
That set thy graces in a wealthier light.
Thy soul still looks with its rare smile of love,
From the Gate Beautiful of its palace-home,
Fair as the spirit of the evening Star,
That lights its glory as a radiant porch
To beacon earth with brighter glimpse of heaven.
Thy beauty hath climaxed like a crescent Moon,
With glory greatening to the golden full.
Thy flowers of spring are crowned with summer fruits,
And thou hast put a queenlier presence on
With thy regality of Womanhood!
Yet Time but toucheth thee with mellowing shades
That set thy graces in a wealthier light.
Thy soul still looks with its rare smile of love,
From the Gate Beautiful of its palace-home,
Fair as the spirit of the evening Star,
That lights its glory as a radiant porch
To beacon earth with brighter glimpse of heaven.
We are poor in this world's wealth, but rich in love;
And they who love feel rich in everything.
The heart of Ocean—thick with gems, as earth
With blooms—is jewelled like a Bride o' the East:
The heart of Heaven swarms with golden worlds:
A subtle heart of wealth hath our old world,
And darks of diamonds, grand as nights of stars:
But richer is the human heart that shrines
The peerless wealth—th' immortal jewel Love!
So let us live our life! and let our love,
Our large twin-love, above our children bend,
As the calm grand old heavens bend over earth,
Revealing God's own starry thoughts and things;
So shall the image of our hearts' Ideal—
The angel nestling in their bud of life—
Smile upward in the mirror of their face
A daily beauty in our darkened ways,
And a perpetual feast of holy things.
And they who love feel rich in everything.
The heart of Ocean—thick with gems, as earth
With blooms—is jewelled like a Bride o' the East:
The heart of Heaven swarms with golden worlds:
A subtle heart of wealth hath our old world,
And darks of diamonds, grand as nights of stars:
But richer is the human heart that shrines
The peerless wealth—th' immortal jewel Love!
So let us live our life! and let our love,
Our large twin-love, above our children bend,
As the calm grand old heavens bend over earth,
Revealing God's own starry thoughts and things;
152
The angel nestling in their bud of life—
Smile upward in the mirror of their face
A daily beauty in our darkened ways,
And a perpetual feast of holy things.
O let us walk the world, so that our love
Burn like a blessed beacon, beautiful
Upon the walls of Life's surrounding dark.
Ah! what a world 'twould be if love like ours
Made heaven in human hearts, and clothed with smiles
The sweet sad face of our Humanity!
What lives should quicken into sudden spring!
What flowers of glory burst their frozen soil!
As the red pulse of Dawn through cold gray skies,
New life should flush up in the darkened face
That readeth like a mourning epitaph
Above the grave of beauty and of soul!
A light should glimmer on the Helot's brow,
And love should come into the mirkest being
As mellowest moonlight silvers through the cloud.
Burn like a blessed beacon, beautiful
Upon the walls of Life's surrounding dark.
Ah! what a world 'twould be if love like ours
Made heaven in human hearts, and clothed with smiles
The sweet sad face of our Humanity!
What lives should quicken into sudden spring!
What flowers of glory burst their frozen soil!
As the red pulse of Dawn through cold gray skies,
New life should flush up in the darkened face
That readeth like a mourning epitaph
Above the grave of beauty and of soul!
A light should glimmer on the Helot's brow,
And love should come into the mirkest being
As mellowest moonlight silvers through the cloud.
1851.
153
THE MOTHER'S IDOL BROKEN.
Tenderly did he usher us within
The holy of holies of a Father's heart,
Where gloomed the first great sorrow still and stern—
The dark, unfeatured Guest—now fading slow
In hallowed, healing light.
Ah, few there be
But miss some sweetest thing Earth lifted up
In her old arms to take Heaven's blessing—pure
As white foam-spirit flashing to the Moon,
And gone as quickly from our mortal night.
The holy of holies of a Father's heart,
Where gloomed the first great sorrow still and stern—
The dark, unfeatured Guest—now fading slow
In hallowed, healing light.
Ah, few there be
But miss some sweetest thing Earth lifted up
In her old arms to take Heaven's blessing—pure
As white foam-spirit flashing to the Moon,
And gone as quickly from our mortal night.
154
I.
Twice the Mother had divèd down
Into her sea of sorrow;
O my love! O my life! my own sweet Wife!
God send you a merry good-morrow.
Betide her weal, or betide her woe,
Her smile it was calm and fearless;
And proud were her eyes as she rose with the prize,
A pearl in her palms! my Peerless!
Into her sea of sorrow;
O my love! O my life! my own sweet Wife!
God send you a merry good-morrow.
Betide her weal, or betide her woe,
Her smile it was calm and fearless;
And proud were her eyes as she rose with the prize,
A pearl in her palms! my Peerless!
O found you a little Sea-Syren,
In some perilous palace left?
Or is it a little Child-Angel,
Of her high-born kin bereft?
Or came she out of the Elfin-land,
By earthly love beguiled?
Or hath the sweet Spirit of Beauty
Taken shape as our starry Child?
In some perilous palace left?
Or is it a little Child-Angel,
Of her high-born kin bereft?
Or came she out of the Elfin-land,
By earthly love beguiled?
Or hath the sweet Spirit of Beauty
Taken shape as our starry Child?
Dear, do but look in her love-nest of sweets,
Where she lies in a smiling calm:
Wee armful of fruitage; a sheaf of ripe bliss;
On a bosom breathing balm.
Pure as the drop of dew, pride of the morn,
On leaves of a lily in blossom;
Fresh as the fragrance newly born
In a violet's virgin bosom!
Where she lies in a smiling calm:
Wee armful of fruitage; a sheaf of ripe bliss;
On a bosom breathing balm.
Pure as the drop of dew, pride of the morn,
On leaves of a lily in blossom;
Fresh as the fragrance newly born
In a violet's virgin bosom!
155
II.
God's Butterfly drawn to the flower of our love!
It seemeth the beautiful thing,
At the first surmise of the heaven she hath left,
For the Winterless World may wing.
So we fold her about with our love as 'twere heaven,
Around her weave many a wile;
And our hearts up-leap, living fountains of joy,
In the golden dream of her smile.
It seemeth the beautiful thing,
At the first surmise of the heaven she hath left,
For the Winterless World may wing.
So we fold her about with our love as 'twere heaven,
Around her weave many a wile;
And our hearts up-leap, living fountains of joy,
In the golden dream of her smile.
III.
On my ripely rounding Rose-tree,
Dreaming of life are three flowers:
One pusheth up her ruby-rose-cup,
For the rain of God's quickening showers.
With a magical burst of beauty, one glows
Dewily-dear in the sheen of love;
And one pretty Softling, our baby-bud-rose,
Lies tenderly shut in the green of love.
Dreaming of life are three flowers:
One pusheth up her ruby-rose-cup,
For the rain of God's quickening showers.
With a magical burst of beauty, one glows
Dewily-dear in the sheen of love;
And one pretty Softling, our baby-bud-rose,
Lies tenderly shut in the green of love.
IV.
O fair befall my dainty flowers,Summering on their stem;
Smiling up to the crowning Rose,
As she smileth down upon them.
Smiling up to their Queen in her beauty,
That smiles on each bonny breast-gem:
Blossoming, brimming with love for her
Who leans ruddy with love over them!
O fair befall my dainty flowers,
Summering on their stem!
156
My fragrant human posies!
Smile on them all, sweet Heaven,
And kiss my darling Roses.
V.
There be three little Maidens; three loving Maidens;
Three bonny Maidens mine;
Three precious jewels are set in Life's crown,
On prayer-lifted brows to shine.
Six starry eyes, all love-luminous,
Look out of our heaven so tender;
Since the Honey-moon, glowing and glorious,
Arose in its ripening splendour.
Three bonny Maidens mine;
Three precious jewels are set in Life's crown,
On prayer-lifted brows to shine.
Six starry eyes, all love-luminous,
Look out of our heaven so tender;
Since the Honey-moon, glowing and glorious,
Arose in its ripening splendour.
There's Lilybell, Duchess of Wonderland,
With dance of life, dimples and curls;
Whose bud of a mouth will burst into flower
A-smile with the wanton white pearls:
And Sweetcheek, our rosily-goldening peach
On the sunniest side o' the wall,
But Marian's Mother's darling,
Marian's Idol of all.
With dance of life, dimples and curls;
Whose bud of a mouth will burst into flower
A-smile with the wanton white pearls:
And Sweetcheek, our rosily-goldening peach
On the sunniest side o' the wall,
But Marian's Mother's darling,
Marian's Idol of all.
VI.
Like the merry voice-bird that sings on the bough,
I sing, O my woman Dove,
To a nest I know in the leaves below,
Full of eyes alive with love.
Two of our little Birds wander on wings,
One can but flutter and fall;
Sing, Marian Mother's wee darling,
Marian's Idol of all.
I sing, O my woman Dove,
To a nest I know in the leaves below,
Full of eyes alive with love.
Two of our little Birds wander on wings,
One can but flutter and fall;
Sing, Marian Mother's wee darling,
Marian's Idol of all.
157
VII.
Parents of Children three;
Two of them ruddy with glee;
One your White Child, your Pearl!
Do you feel as I feel with my Girl?
For I peer in her tender face,
And I fear that its light of grace
Is too still and too starry a birth
For our noisy, dim dwellings of Earth.
She looks like a Changeling child
Of the heavens—too lustrous, too mild
For us. Other Roses are blowing
While ours seems upfolding and going,—
Dreamily happy in going.
Yet on it more soft is the thorn
Than the tiniest little snail's horn,
And golden at heart is the Morn
Of a day that will never be born.
Two of them ruddy with glee;
One your White Child, your Pearl!
Do you feel as I feel with my Girl?
For I peer in her tender face,
And I fear that its light of grace
Is too still and too starry a birth
For our noisy, dim dwellings of Earth.
She looks like a Changeling child
Of the heavens—too lustrous, too mild
For us. Other Roses are blowing
While ours seems upfolding and going,—
Dreamily happy in going.
Yet on it more soft is the thorn
Than the tiniest little snail's horn,
And golden at heart is the Morn
Of a day that will never be born.
Just a spirit of light is my Girl,
Seen through a body of pearl;
A spirit of life that will fleet
Away, more on wings than on feet.
Her cheek is so waxenly thin,
As if deathward 'twere dimpling in,
And the cloud of her flesh, still more white
Were clearing till soul is in sight.
She leans as the wind-flowers stoop;
All their loveliness seen as they droop!
Her eyes have the sweet native hue
Of the heaven they are melting into,
Blue as the Violets above
The grave of some tender babe-love
That back to us wistfully bring
The buried blue eyes with the Spring.
Her large eyes too liquidly glister!
Her mouth is too red.
Seen through a body of pearl;
A spirit of life that will fleet
Away, more on wings than on feet.
Her cheek is so waxenly thin,
As if deathward 'twere dimpling in,
And the cloud of her flesh, still more white
Were clearing till soul is in sight.
She leans as the wind-flowers stoop;
All their loveliness seen as they droop!
Her eyes have the sweet native hue
Of the heaven they are melting into,
Blue as the Violets above
The grave of some tender babe-love
158
The buried blue eyes with the Spring.
Her large eyes too liquidly glister!
Her mouth is too red.
Have they kissed her—
The Angels that bend down to pull
Our buds of the Beautiful,
And whispered their own little Sister?
The Angels that bend down to pull
Our buds of the Beautiful,
And whispered their own little Sister?
O Parents of children three!
Two of them bright of blee;
One, your White Child, your Pearl!
Do you feel as I feel with my Girl?
For I think I could give half her wealth
Of heaven for a little more health:
The halo of Saints for the simple
Blithe graces that dip in a dimple!
Nay, I feel in my heart I could revel
To see but a wee dash of devil;
A touch of the old Adam in her;
A glimpse of his fair fellow-sinner;
Any likeness of earth that would give
Me a promise my Darling should live.
I feel I could pray—“O my Maker,
Take me too, if Thou must take her.”
Two of them bright of blee;
One, your White Child, your Pearl!
Do you feel as I feel with my Girl?
For I think I could give half her wealth
Of heaven for a little more health:
The halo of Saints for the simple
Blithe graces that dip in a dimple!
Nay, I feel in my heart I could revel
To see but a wee dash of devil;
A touch of the old Adam in her;
A glimpse of his fair fellow-sinner;
Any likeness of earth that would give
Me a promise my Darling should live.
I feel I could pray—“O my Maker,
Take me too, if Thou must take her.”
VIII.
All in our Marriage Garden
Grew, smiling up to God,
A bonnier Flower than ever
Sucked the warmth of sun and sod.
O beautiful unfathomably
Its little life unfurled;
Love's crowning sweetness was our wee
White Rose of all the world.
Grew, smiling up to God,
A bonnier Flower than ever
Sucked the warmth of sun and sod.
O beautiful unfathomably
Its little life unfurled;
159
White Rose of all the world.
From out a balmy bosom,
Our Bud of Beauty grew;
It fed on smiles for sunshine,
And tears for daintier dew.
Aye nestling warm and tenderly,
Our leaves of love were curled
So close and close about our wee
White Rose of all the world.
Our Bud of Beauty grew;
It fed on smiles for sunshine,
And tears for daintier dew.
Aye nestling warm and tenderly,
Our leaves of love were curled
So close and close about our wee
White Rose of all the world.
Two flowers of glorious crimson
Grew with our Rose of light;
Still kept the sweet heaven-grafted slip
Her whiteness saintly white.
They caught the breeze and danced with glee;
They reddened as it whirled;
White, white and wondrous grew our wee
White Rose of all the world.
Grew with our Rose of light;
Still kept the sweet heaven-grafted slip
Her whiteness saintly white.
They caught the breeze and danced with glee;
They reddened as it whirled;
White, white and wondrous grew our wee
White Rose of all the world.
With mystical faint fragrance,
Our House of Life she filled—
Revealed each hour some Fairy Tower,
Where wingèd Hopes might build.
We saw—though none like us might see—
Such precious promise pearled
Upon the petals of our wee
White Rose of all the world.
Our House of Life she filled—
Revealed each hour some Fairy Tower,
Where wingèd Hopes might build.
We saw—though none like us might see—
Such precious promise pearled
Upon the petals of our wee
White Rose of all the world.
But evermore the halo
Of Angel-light increased;
Like the mystery of Moonlight,
That folds some fairy feast.
Snow-white, snow-soft, snow-silently,
Our darling bud up-curled,
And dropped i' the Grave-God's lap—our wee
White Rose of all the world.
Of Angel-light increased;
Like the mystery of Moonlight,
That folds some fairy feast.
160
Our darling bud up-curled,
And dropped i' the Grave-God's lap—our wee
White Rose of all the world.
Our Rose was but in blossom;
Our life was but in spring;
When down the solemn midnight
We heard the Spirits sing:
“Another bud of infancy,
With holy dews impearled;”
And in their hands they bore our wee
White Rose of all the world.
Our life was but in spring;
When down the solemn midnight
We heard the Spirits sing:
“Another bud of infancy,
With holy dews impearled;”
And in their hands they bore our wee
White Rose of all the world.
You scarce could think so small a thing
Would leave a loss so large;
Her little light such shadow fling,
From Dawn to Sunset's marge.
In other Springs our life may be
In other flowers unfurled;
But never, never match our wee
White Rose of all the world.
Would leave a loss so large;
Her little light such shadow fling,
From Dawn to Sunset's marge.
In other Springs our life may be
In other flowers unfurled;
But never, never match our wee
White Rose of all the world.
IX.
This is a curl of little Marian's hair!
A ring of sinless gold that weds two worlds!
Our one thing left with her dear life in it.
Poor Misers! o'er it secretly we sum
Our little savings hoarded up above,—
Our rich love-thoughts heart-hid to doat upon,—
And glimpse our lost heaven in a flood of tears.
A magic ring, through which fond Sorrow reads
Of strange heart-histories, and conjures up
A vanished face, with its sweet spirit-smiles,
Babe-wonderings, and little tender ways.
At birth her hair was dark as it were dipped
In the death-shadow; but it rarefied
In radiance as her head rose nigher heaven,
Till she—white Glory!—looked from a golden midst.
This is her still face as she lay in death!
Spirit-like face, set in a silver cloud,
It comes to us in silent glooms of night;
The wee wan face that gradually withdrew
And darkened into the great cloud of death.
A ring of sinless gold that weds two worlds!
Our one thing left with her dear life in it.
Poor Misers! o'er it secretly we sum
Our little savings hoarded up above,—
Our rich love-thoughts heart-hid to doat upon,—
And glimpse our lost heaven in a flood of tears.
A magic ring, through which fond Sorrow reads
Of strange heart-histories, and conjures up
161
Babe-wonderings, and little tender ways.
At birth her hair was dark as it were dipped
In the death-shadow; but it rarefied
In radiance as her head rose nigher heaven,
Till she—white Glory!—looked from a golden midst.
This is her still face as she lay in death!
Spirit-like face, set in a silver cloud,
It comes to us in silent glooms of night;
The wee wan face that gradually withdrew
And darkened into the great cloud of death.
O ye who say, “We have a Child in heaven;”
And know how far away that heaven may seem;
Who have felt the desolate isolation sharp
Defined in Death's own face; who have stood beside
The Silent River, and stretched out pleading hands
For some sweet Babe upon the other bank,
That went forth where no human hand might lead,
And left the shut house with no light, no sound,
No answer, when the Mourners wail without!
What we have known, ye know, ye only know.
And know how far away that heaven may seem;
Who have felt the desolate isolation sharp
Defined in Death's own face; who have stood beside
The Silent River, and stretched out pleading hands
For some sweet Babe upon the other bank,
That went forth where no human hand might lead,
And left the shut house with no light, no sound,
No answer, when the Mourners wail without!
What we have known, ye know, ye only know.
She came like April, who with tender grace
Smiles in Earth's face, and sets upon her breast
The bud of all her glory yet to come,
Then bursts in tears, and takes her sorrowful leave.
She brought heaven to us just within the space
Of the dear depths of her large, dream-like eyes,
Then o'er the vista fell the death-veil dark.
She only caught three words of human speech:
One for her Mother, one for me, and one
She crowed with, for the fields, and open air.
That last she sighed with a sharp farewell pathos
A minute ere she left the house of life,
To come for kisses never any more.
Smiles in Earth's face, and sets upon her breast
The bud of all her glory yet to come,
Then bursts in tears, and takes her sorrowful leave.
She brought heaven to us just within the space
Of the dear depths of her large, dream-like eyes,
Then o'er the vista fell the death-veil dark.
She only caught three words of human speech:
One for her Mother, one for me, and one
162
That last she sighed with a sharp farewell pathos
A minute ere she left the house of life,
To come for kisses never any more.
Pale Blossom! how she leaned in love to us!
And how we feared a hand might reach from heaven
To pluck our sweetest flower, our loftiest flower
Of life, that sprang from lowliest root of love!
Some tender trouble in her eyes complained
Of Life's rude stream, as meek Forget-me-nots
Make sweet appeal when winds and waters fret.
And oft she looked beyond Us with sad eyes,
As for the coming of the Unseen Hand.
We saw, but feared to speak of, her strange beauty,
As some hushed Bird that dares not sing i'the night,
Lest lurking foe should find its secret place,
And seize it through the dark. With twin-love's strength
All crowded in the softest nestling-touch,
We fenced her round—exchanging silent looks.
We went about the house with listening hearts,
That kept the watch for Danger's stealthiest step,
Our spirits felt the Shadow ere it fell.
And how we feared a hand might reach from heaven
To pluck our sweetest flower, our loftiest flower
Of life, that sprang from lowliest root of love!
Some tender trouble in her eyes complained
Of Life's rude stream, as meek Forget-me-nots
Make sweet appeal when winds and waters fret.
And oft she looked beyond Us with sad eyes,
As for the coming of the Unseen Hand.
We saw, but feared to speak of, her strange beauty,
As some hushed Bird that dares not sing i'the night,
Lest lurking foe should find its secret place,
And seize it through the dark. With twin-love's strength
All crowded in the softest nestling-touch,
We fenced her round—exchanging silent looks.
We went about the house with listening hearts,
That kept the watch for Danger's stealthiest step,
Our spirits felt the Shadow ere it fell.
Then the Physician left our door ajar
A moment, and the grim thief Death stole in.
Some Angel passing o'er Life's troubled sea,
Had seen our Jewel shine celestial pure,
And Death must win it for her bosom-pearl.
We stood at Midnight in the Presence dread.
At midnight, when Men die, we strove with Death,
To wrench our jewel from his grasping hand.
Ere the soul loosed from its last ledge of life,
Her little face peered round with anxious eyes,
Then, seeing all the old faces, dropped content.
A moment, and the grim thief Death stole in.
Some Angel passing o'er Life's troubled sea,
Had seen our Jewel shine celestial pure,
And Death must win it for her bosom-pearl.
We stood at Midnight in the Presence dread.
At midnight, when Men die, we strove with Death,
To wrench our jewel from his grasping hand.
163
Her little face peered round with anxious eyes,
Then, seeing all the old faces, dropped content.
The mystery dilated in her look,
Which, on the darkening death-ground, faintly caught
Some likeness of the Angel shining near.
Her passing soul flashed back a glimpse of bliss.
She was a Child no more, but strong and stern
As a mailed Knight that had been grappling Death.
A crown of conquest bound her baby-brow;
Her little hands could take the heirdom large;
And all her Childhood's vagrant royalty
Sat staid and calm in some eternal throne.
Love's kiss is sweet, but Death's doth make immortal.
Which, on the darkening death-ground, faintly caught
Some likeness of the Angel shining near.
Her passing soul flashed back a glimpse of bliss.
She was a Child no more, but strong and stern
As a mailed Knight that had been grappling Death.
A crown of conquest bound her baby-brow;
Her little hands could take the heirdom large;
And all her Childhood's vagrant royalty
Sat staid and calm in some eternal throne.
Love's kiss is sweet, but Death's doth make immortal.
The Mornings came, with all their glory on;
Birds, brooks, and bees were singing in the sun,
Earth's blithe heart breathing bloom into her face,
The flowers all crowding up like Memories
Of lovelier life in some forgotten world,
Or dreams of peace and beauty yet to come.
The soft south-breezes rocked the baby-buds
In fondling arms upon a balmy breast;
And all was gay as universal life
Swam down the stream that glads the City of God.
Birds, brooks, and bees were singing in the sun,
Earth's blithe heart breathing bloom into her face,
The flowers all crowding up like Memories
Of lovelier life in some forgotten world,
Or dreams of peace and beauty yet to come.
The soft south-breezes rocked the baby-buds
In fondling arms upon a balmy breast;
And all was gay as universal life
Swam down the stream that glads the City of God.
But we lay dark where Death had struck us down
With that stern blow which made us bleed within,
And bow while the Inevitable went by.
With that stern blow which made us bleed within,
And bow while the Inevitable went by.
And there our little one lay in coffined calm;
Beyond the breakers and the moaning now!
And o'er her flowed the white, eternal peace:
All dim the living lustres motion makes!
No life-dew in the sweet cups of her eyes!
The breathing miracle into silence passed:
Never to stretch wee hands, with her dear smile
As soft as light-fall on unfolding flowers;
Never to wake us crying in the night:
Our little hindering thing for ever gone,
We might toil on in tearful quiet now.
Beyond the breakers and the moaning now!
164
All dim the living lustres motion makes!
No life-dew in the sweet cups of her eyes!
The breathing miracle into silence passed:
Never to stretch wee hands, with her dear smile
As soft as light-fall on unfolding flowers;
Never to wake us crying in the night:
Our little hindering thing for ever gone,
We might toil on in tearful quiet now.
A young Immortal came to us disguised,
And in the joy-dance dropped her mask, and fled.
Nought there of our wee darling save the mask.
And in the joy-dance dropped her mask, and fled.
Nought there of our wee darling save the mask.
The world went lightly by and heeded not
Our death-white windows blinded to the sun;
The hearts that ached within; the measureless loss;
The Idol broken; our first tryst with Death.
O Life, how strange thy face behind the veil!
And stranger yet will thy strange mystery look,
When we awake in death and tell our Dream.
'Tis hard to solve the secret of the Sphinx!
We had a little gold Love garnered up,
To richly robe our Babe: the Mother's half
Was turned to mourning-raiment for her dead:
Mine bought the first land we called ours—Her grave.
We were as treasure-seekers in the earth,
When lo, a death's-head on a sudden stares.
Our death-white windows blinded to the sun;
The hearts that ached within; the measureless loss;
The Idol broken; our first tryst with Death.
O Life, how strange thy face behind the veil!
And stranger yet will thy strange mystery look,
When we awake in death and tell our Dream.
'Tis hard to solve the secret of the Sphinx!
We had a little gold Love garnered up,
To richly robe our Babe: the Mother's half
Was turned to mourning-raiment for her dead:
Mine bought the first land we called ours—Her grave.
We were as treasure-seekers in the earth,
When lo, a death's-head on a sudden stares.
Clad all in her babe-beauty forth she went;
Her budding spring of life in tiny leaf;
Her faint dawn whitened in the perfect day.
Our early wede awa' went back to God,
Bearing her life-scroll folded, without stain,
And only three words written on it—two
Our names! Ah, may they plead for us in heaven!
Her budding spring of life in tiny leaf;
Her faint dawn whitened in the perfect day.
Our early wede awa' went back to God,
165
And only three words written on it—two
Our names! Ah, may they plead for us in heaven!
X.
Very softly hold the Rose,
On thy happy breast that blows!
Thus from out my heart there sprang a flower of tender pride.
All too wild my passion burned:
For the cooling dews it yearned:
In my hot hands drooped my gentle flower and died.
On thy happy breast that blows!
Thus from out my heart there sprang a flower of tender pride.
All too wild my passion burned:
For the cooling dews it yearned:
In my hot hands drooped my gentle flower and died.
Be thy glory meekly worn:
Fairest fruit is lowliest borne:
Mine grew high as Life could climb, and arms could reach above.
O, so proudly heaved my breast;
All the world should see how blest;
And the seeing Heavens took my lifted love.
Fairest fruit is lowliest borne:
Mine grew high as Life could climb, and arms could reach above.
O, so proudly heaved my breast;
All the world should see how blest;
And the seeing Heavens took my lifted love.
XI.
There is her nest where balmily smiled
Our Babe, as we leaned above;
There she asked with her face for the tenderest place
In all our world of love.
Very silent and empty now! yet we feel
It rock; and a tiny footfall
Comes over the floor in the thrilling night-hush,
And our hearts leap up for the call
Of our puir wee lammie dead and gone;
Our bonnie wee lammie dead and gone.
Our Babe, as we leaned above;
There she asked with her face for the tenderest place
In all our world of love.
Very silent and empty now! yet we feel
It rock; and a tiny footfall
Comes over the floor in the thrilling night-hush,
And our hearts leap up for the call
166
Our bonnie wee lammie dead and gone.
Last night, with hands to cracking clasped
In the furnace-fire of my heart,
Sitting, I saw the dead world
All into spirit-life start
At the mystic touch of the white Moonlight.
My spirit arose likewise,
And wandered away to the Graveyard,
Where, a jewel in Death's hand, lies
Our puir wee lammie dead and gone;
Our bonnie wee lammie dead and gone.
In the furnace-fire of my heart,
Sitting, I saw the dead world
All into spirit-life start
At the mystic touch of the white Moonlight.
My spirit arose likewise,
And wandered away to the Graveyard,
Where, a jewel in Death's hand, lies
Our puir wee lammie dead and gone;
Our bonnie wee lammie dead and gone.
Slowly, slowly uprose the dead,
All in their robes of white!
Weirdly, weirdly uprose the dead,
All in the silent night!
Like lilies for God, from the dark grave-bed,
They grew in a glory-rain;
And the crownèd Darling of Heaven, at the head
Of all that glorified train,
Was our puir wee lammie dead and gone;
Our bonnie wee lammie dead and gone.
All in their robes of white!
Weirdly, weirdly uprose the dead,
All in the silent night!
Like lilies for God, from the dark grave-bed,
They grew in a glory-rain;
And the crownèd Darling of Heaven, at the head
Of all that glorified train,
Was our puir wee lammie dead and gone;
Our bonnie wee lammie dead and gone.
In my dream I stood at the death-door dark,
Alone and tremblingly,
Till a Shining One came in a crescent bark,
Moonlike, o'er a purple sea.
She smiled to say that she knew the way,
And at some secret sign,
A memory of the old life stirred,
And I knew that Angel mine!
Our puir wee lammie dead and gone;
Our bonnie wee lammie dead and gone.
Alone and tremblingly,
Till a Shining One came in a crescent bark,
Moonlike, o'er a purple sea.
She smiled to say that she knew the way,
And at some secret sign,
A memory of the old life stirred,
And I knew that Angel mine!
Our puir wee lammie dead and gone;
Our bonnie wee lammie dead and gone.
167
XII.
Within a mile of Edinburgh Town
We laid our little darling down;
Our first seed in God's acre sown!
We laid our little darling down;
Our first seed in God's acre sown!
So sweet a place! Death looked beguiled
Of half his gloom; or softly smiled
To win our wondrous spirit-child.
Of half his gloom; or softly smiled
To win our wondrous spirit-child.
God giveth His Beloved sleep
So calm, within its silence deep,
As Angel-guards the watch might keep.
So calm, within its silence deep,
As Angel-guards the watch might keep.
The City looketh solemn and sweet;
It bares a gentle brow, to greet
The Mourners mourning at its feet.
It bares a gentle brow, to greet
The Mourners mourning at its feet.
The sea of human life breaks round
This shore o' the dead, with softened sound:
Wild-flowers climb each mossy mound
This shore o' the dead, with softened sound:
Wild-flowers climb each mossy mound
To place in resting hands their palm,
And breathe their beauty, bloom, and balm;
Folding the dead in fragrant calm.
And breathe their beauty, bloom, and balm;
Folding the dead in fragrant calm.
A lighter shadow Grief might wear;
And old Heartache come gather there
The peace that falleth after prayer.
And old Heartache come gather there
The peace that falleth after prayer.
Poor heart, that danced among the vines
All reeling-ripe with sweet love-wines,
Thou walk'st with Death among the pines!
All reeling-ripe with sweet love-wines,
Thou walk'st with Death among the pines!
Lorn Mother, at the dark grave-door,
She kneeleth, pleading o'er and o'er,
But it is shut for evermore.
She kneeleth, pleading o'er and o'er,
But it is shut for evermore.
168
Blind, blind! She feels, but cannot read
Aright; then leans as she would feed
The dear dead lips that never heed.
Aright; then leans as she would feed
The dear dead lips that never heed.
The spirit of life may leap above,
But in that grave her prisoned Dove
Lies, cold to th' warm embrace of love,
But in that grave her prisoned Dove
Lies, cold to th' warm embrace of love,
And dark, though all the world is bright;
And lonely, with a City in sight;
And desolate in the rainy night.
And lonely, with a City in sight;
And desolate in the rainy night.
Ah, God! when in the glad life-cup
The face of Death swims darkly up;
The crowning flower is sure to droop!
The face of Death swims darkly up;
The crowning flower is sure to droop!
And so we laid our Darling down,
When Summer's face grew ripely brown,
And still, though grief hath milder grown,
When Summer's face grew ripely brown,
And still, though grief hath milder grown,
Unto the Stranger's land we cleave,
Like some poor Birds that grieve and grieve,
Round the robbed nest, and cannot leave.
Like some poor Birds that grieve and grieve,
Round the robbed nest, and cannot leave.
XIII.
Ah, the sweet Dream, the singing Dream, that sang
We knew not what, so sweet the melody!
Made dim woe glimmer golden while we slept;
And when we woke the lulling Dream was gone.
We knew not what, so sweet the melody!
Made dim woe glimmer golden while we slept;
And when we woke the lulling Dream was gone.
We who had glowed like Angels in the sun,
With life so lighted by her loveliness:
We let her down into the drowning gloom,
Sailing the awful Sea in our World-bark.
With life so lighted by her loveliness:
We let her down into the drowning gloom,
Sailing the awful Sea in our World-bark.
169
God's messenger of death seems blindly stern:
And 'tis so hard to leave a little babe
Within the Grave's cold arms, alone! while Sorrow
Comes Home and chills the nest her sweet life warmed.
And 'tis so hard to leave a little babe
Within the Grave's cold arms, alone! while Sorrow
Comes Home and chills the nest her sweet life warmed.
So little to the world! but what a world
Of difference in our little world of home!
This Stillness where the sweet Bird chirped to us;
This good-night-parting, this morn-greeting loss.
Of difference in our little world of home!
This Stillness where the sweet Bird chirped to us;
This good-night-parting, this morn-greeting loss.
And yet perchance the kind dark-Angel drew
Her in the secret shadow of his cloud,
Out of our warm and golden air, to hide
Her from some fearful Fate far-hurrying up?
Her in the secret shadow of his cloud,
Out of our warm and golden air, to hide
Her from some fearful Fate far-hurrying up?
XIV.
To-day, when winds of Winter blow,
And Nature sits in dream of snow,
With Ugolino-look of woe:
And Nature sits in dream of snow,
With Ugolino-look of woe:
Wife from the window came to me,
Now leaves were fallen she could see
That wee grave in the Cemet'ry.
Now leaves were fallen she could see
That wee grave in the Cemet'ry.
With wintriness all life did ache
For that dead darling's sainted sake;
And lips might kiss, but hearts would quake.
For that dead darling's sainted sake;
And lips might kiss, but hearts would quake.
Ho, ye who pass her narrow house,
By which the dark Leith sea-ward flows;
O clasp your pretty nurslings close;
By which the dark Leith sea-ward flows;
O clasp your pretty nurslings close;
And if some tender bud of light
Is drooping, as the snowdrop white,
With looks that weird wild heart strings smite
Is drooping, as the snowdrop white,
With looks that weird wild heart strings smite
170
Think of our babe that will not wake,
And fold your own till fond hearts ache,
Sweet souls, for little Marian's sake.
And fold your own till fond hearts ache,
Sweet souls, for little Marian's sake.
XV.
O happy Tree;
Green and fragrant Tree;
Spring with budding jewels decked it like a Bride!
All so fair it bloomed,
And the summer air perfumed;
Golden autumn fruitage smiled in crowns of pride.
Green and fragrant Tree;
Spring with budding jewels decked it like a Bride!
All so fair it bloomed,
And the summer air perfumed;
Golden autumn fruitage smiled in crowns of pride.
O human tree;
Waesome wailing tree;
In the winter wind how it rocks! how it grieves!
On a little low grave-mound,
All its bravery lies discrowned:
O'er its fallen fruit it heaps the withered leaves.
Waesome wailing tree;
In the winter wind how it rocks! how it grieves!
On a little low grave-mound,
All its bravery lies discrowned:
O'er its fallen fruit it heaps the withered leaves.
XVI.
“
Pretty
flowers on Baby's head;
Who'll cry flowers when Baby's dead?”
Singing hearts oft questionèd,
In the sweetest Summer fled.
Marian, Marian.
Who'll cry flowers when Baby's dead?”
Singing hearts oft questionèd,
In the sweetest Summer fled.
Marian, Marian.
Tearful words, how lightly said!
Mournfully rememberèd,
Now the sweet New Year doth spread
Blossom-life on Baby's bed.
Marian, Marian.
Mournfully rememberèd,
Now the sweet New Year doth spread
Blossom-life on Baby's bed.
Marian, Marian.
171
Tender emerald, white and red,
Flowers of her beauty bred:
Breathing all of her that's dead,
Cry, “We crown her Baby-head!”
Marian, Marian.
Flowers of her beauty bred:
Breathing all of her that's dead,
Cry, “We crown her Baby-head!”
Marian, Marian.
“Who'll cry flowers when Baby's dead?”
Praying looks to heaven are led,
And it smiles as though it said,
“Early her sweet fame hither sped.”
Marian, Marian.
Praying looks to heaven are led,
And it smiles as though it said,
“Early her sweet fame hither sped.”
Marian, Marian.
“Faith, look up and firmly tread:
Poor Bereaved, be comforted;
I will nurse the Child instead;
My Flowers garland Baby's head.’
Marian, Marian.
Poor Bereaved, be comforted;
I will nurse the Child instead;
My Flowers garland Baby's head.’
Marian, Marian.
God's unguessed reply is read:
Tears that came not, tears that pled
Crying darkly, here are shed:
Soft rest you, Darling! dead
Marian, Marian.
Tears that came not, tears that pled
Crying darkly, here are shed:
Soft rest you, Darling! dead
Marian, Marian.
XVII.
Our leaves are shaken from the Tree,
Our hopes laid low,
That after our Spring-nurslings, we
May long to go.
Our hopes laid low,
That after our Spring-nurslings, we
May long to go.
The warm love-nest our little Doves leave
With helpless moan,
As they for us at heart would grieve
In heaven—alone!
With helpless moan,
As they for us at heart would grieve
In heaven—alone!
172
The tender Shepherd beckoningly
Our Lambs doth hold,
That we may take our own when He
Makes up the fold.
Our Lambs doth hold,
That we may take our own when He
Makes up the fold.
XVIII.
With seeking hearts we still grope on,
Where dropped our jewel in the dust:
The looking crowd have long since gone,
And still we seek with lonely trust:
O little Child with radiant eyes!
Where dropped our jewel in the dust:
The looking crowd have long since gone,
And still we seek with lonely trust:
O little Child with radiant eyes!
In all our heart-ache we are drawn,
Unweeting, to your little grave;
There, on your heavenly shores of dawn,
Breaks gentlier Sorrow's sobbing wave:
O little Child with radiant eyes!
Unweeting, to your little grave;
There, on your heavenly shores of dawn,
Breaks gentlier Sorrow's sobbing wave:
O little Child with radiant eyes!
Dark underneath the brightening sod,
The sweetest life of all our years
Is crowded in ae gift to God,—
Outside the gate we stand in tears.
O little Child with radiant eyes!
The sweetest life of all our years
Is crowded in ae gift to God,—
Outside the gate we stand in tears.
O little Child with radiant eyes!
Heart-empty as the Acorn-cup
That only fills with wintry showers;
The breaking cloud but brimmeth up
With tears this pleading life of ours.
O little Child with radiant eyes!
That only fills with wintry showers;
The breaking cloud but brimmeth up
With tears this pleading life of ours.
O little Child with radiant eyes!
We think of you, our Angel kith,
Till life grows light with starry leaven:
We never forget you, Darling with
The gold hair waving high in heaven;
Our little Child with radiant eyes!
Till life grows light with starry leaven:
We never forget you, Darling with
The gold hair waving high in heaven;
Our little Child with radiant eyes!
173
Your white wings grown you will conquer Death!
You are coming through our dreams even now,
With azure peep of heaven beneath
The arching glory of your brow,
Our little Child with radiant eyes!
You are coming through our dreams even now,
With azure peep of heaven beneath
The arching glory of your brow,
Our little Child with radiant eyes!
We cannot pierce the dark, but oft
You see us with looks of pitying balm;
A hint of heaven—a touch more soft
Than kisses—all the trouble is calm.
Our little Child with radiant eyes!
You see us with looks of pitying balm;
A hint of heaven—a touch more soft
Than kisses—all the trouble is calm.
Our little Child with radiant eyes!
Think of us wearied in the strife,
And when we sit by Sorrow's streams,
Shake down upon our drooping life
The dew that brings immortal dreams.
Our little Child with radiant eyes!
And when we sit by Sorrow's streams,
Shake down upon our drooping life
The dew that brings immortal dreams.
Our little Child with radiant eyes!
XIX.
Come hither, Friends! Come hither, Friends!
So great the joy our Father sends,
I want to share with you.
For He hath made the blind receive
New sight! Come, help me to believe
The miracle is true!
So great the joy our Father sends,
I want to share with you.
For He hath made the blind receive
New sight! Come, help me to believe
The miracle is true!
“O what the joy? and whence the beam
That lights your look as with the gleam
Of waters in the waste?”
Come kneel by me on bended knee;
Ye must stoop low if ye would see,—
Lower, if ye would taste!
That lights your look as with the gleam
Of waters in the waste?”
Come kneel by me on bended knee;
Ye must stoop low if ye would see,—
Lower, if ye would taste!
174
Sweet Friends, ye know the little grave
To which my heart would crawl and crave,
As 'twere a worm o' the dust?
I writhed so low, it rose so high,
The mound that shut out all my sky;
So broken was my trust.
To which my heart would crawl and crave,
As 'twere a worm o' the dust?
I writhed so low, it rose so high,
The mound that shut out all my sky;
So broken was my trust.
This morn I sought it! hardly one
Of all my unshed tears would run;
Instead—from out the sod—
A spring had gushed through dust and weeds!
And in the light of God it feeds
My life, direct from God.
Of all my unshed tears would run;
Instead—from out the sod—
A spring had gushed through dust and weeds!
And in the light of God it feeds
My life, direct from God.
XX.
Spring comes with violet eyes unveiled,
Her fragrant lips apart!
And Earth smiles up as though she held
Most honeyed thoughts at heart.
But nevermore will Spring arise
Dancing in sparkles of her eyes.
Her fragrant lips apart!
And Earth smiles up as though she held
Most honeyed thoughts at heart.
But nevermore will Spring arise
Dancing in sparkles of her eyes.
A gracious wind low-breathing comes
As from the fields of God;
The old lost Eden newly blooms
From out the sunny sod.
My buried joy stirs with the earth,
And tries to sun its sweetness forth.
As from the fields of God;
The old lost Eden newly blooms
From out the sunny sod.
My buried joy stirs with the earth,
And tries to sun its sweetness forth.
The Trees move in their slumbering,
Dreaming of one that's near!
Put out their feelers for the Spring,
To wake, and find her here!
My spirit on the threshold stands,
And stretches out its waiting hands;
Dreaming of one that's near!
Put out their feelers for the Spring,
To wake, and find her here!
175
And stretches out its waiting hands;
Then goeth from me in a stream
Of yearning; wave on wave
Slides through the stillness of a dream,
To little Marian's grave:
For all the miracle of Spring
My long lost Child will never bring.
Of yearning; wave on wave
Slides through the stillness of a dream,
To little Marian's grave:
For all the miracle of Spring
My long lost Child will never bring.
Where blooms the golden crocus-burst,
And Winter's tenderling,
There lies our little Snowdrop,—first
Of Flowers in our love's spring!
How all the year's young beauties blow
About her there, I know, I know.
And Winter's tenderling,
There lies our little Snowdrop,—first
Of Flowers in our love's spring!
How all the year's young beauties blow
About her there, I know, I know.
The Blackbird with his warble wet,
The Thrush with reedy thrill,
Open their hearts to Heav'n, and let
The influence have its will!
Though all around the Spring hath smiled,
She seems to have kissed where lies my child.
The Thrush with reedy thrill,
Open their hearts to Heav'n, and let
The influence have its will!
Though all around the Spring hath smiled,
She seems to have kissed where lies my child.
In purple shadow and golden shine
Old Arthur's Seat is crowned;
Like shapes of Silence crystalline
The great white clouds sail round!
The Dead at rest the long day through
Lie calm against the pictured blue.
Old Arthur's Seat is crowned;
Like shapes of Silence crystalline
The great white clouds sail round!
The Dead at rest the long day through
Lie calm against the pictured blue.
At shut of Eve the stars may peep,
But still there comes no night;
Only the Day hath fallen asleep,
And smiles in dreams of light:
As though she felt the heart of Love
Beat on in silent stars above.
But still there comes no night;
Only the Day hath fallen asleep,
And smiles in dreams of light:
176
Beat on in silent stars above.
O Marian, my maid Marian,
So strange it seems to me!
That you, the Household's darling one,
So soon should cease to be.
Ah, was it that our praying breath
Might kindle heavenward fires of faith?
So strange it seems to me!
That you, the Household's darling one,
So soon should cease to be.
Ah, was it that our praying breath
Might kindle heavenward fires of faith?
So much forgiven for your sake
When bitter words were said,
And little arms about the neck
With blessings bowed the head!
So happy as we might have been,
Our hearts more close with you between.
When bitter words were said,
And little arms about the neck
With blessings bowed the head!
So happy as we might have been,
Our hearts more close with you between.
Dear early Dew-drop! such a gleam
Of sun from heaven you drew,
We little thought that smiling beam
Would drink the precious dew!
But back to heaven our dew was kissed,
We saw it pass in mournful mist.
Of sun from heaven you drew,
We little thought that smiling beam
Would drink the precious dew!
But back to heaven our dew was kissed,
We saw it pass in mournful mist.
Our lowly home was lofty-crowned
With three sweet budding girls!
Our Marriage-ring was wreathen round
With darling wee love-pearls!
One jewel from the ring is gone,
One fills a grave in Warriston.
With three sweet budding girls!
Our Marriage-ring was wreathen round
With darling wee love-pearls!
One jewel from the ring is gone,
One fills a grave in Warriston.
We bore her beauty in our breast,
As heaven bears the Dawn,
We brooded over her dear nest,
Still close and closer drawn.
Hearts thrilled and listened, watched and throbbed,
And strayed not,—yet the nest was robbed.
As heaven bears the Dawn,
We brooded over her dear nest,
Still close and closer drawn.
177
And strayed not,—yet the nest was robbed.
“Stay yet a little while, Beloved!”
In vain our prayerful breath:
Across heaven's lighted window moved
The shadow of black Death.
In vain our hands were stretched to save;
There closed the gateways of the Grave!
In vain our prayerful breath:
Across heaven's lighted window moved
The shadow of black Death.
In vain our hands were stretched to save;
There closed the gateways of the Grave!
Could my death-vision have darkened up
In her sweet face, my child;
I scarce should see the bitter cup
I could have drunk and smiled:
Blessing her with my last-wrung breath,
Dear Angel in my dream of death.
In her sweet face, my child;
I scarce should see the bitter cup
I could have drunk and smiled:
Blessing her with my last-wrung breath,
Dear Angel in my dream of death.
Her memory is like music we
Have heard some singer sing,
That thrills life through, and echoingly
Our hearts forever ring;
We try it o'er and o'er again,
But ne'er recall that wondrous strain.
Have heard some singer sing,
That thrills life through, and echoingly
Our hearts forever ring;
We try it o'er and o'er again,
But ne'er recall that wondrous strain.
My proud heart like a river runs,
Lying awake o' nights;
I see her with the shining Ones
Upon the shining heights.
And a wee Angel-face will peep
Down starlike through the veil of sleep.
Lying awake o' nights;
I see her with the shining Ones
Upon the shining heights.
And a wee Angel-face will peep
Down starlike through the veil of sleep.
My yearnings try to get them wings
And float me up afar,
As in the Dawn the Skylark springs
To reach some distant Star
That all night long swam down to him
In brightness, but at morn grew dim.
And float me up afar,
As in the Dawn the Skylark springs
To reach some distant Star
178
In brightness, but at morn grew dim.
She is a spirit of light that leavens
The darkness where we wait;
And starlike opens in the heavens
A little golden gate!
O may we wake and find her near
When work and sleep are over here!
The darkness where we wait;
And starlike opens in the heavens
A little golden gate!
O may we wake and find her near
When work and sleep are over here!
No sweetness to this world of ours
Is without purpose given,
The fragrance that goes up from flowers
May be their seed in Heaven.
We saw Heaven in her face, may we
Her future face in Heaven see.
Is without purpose given,
The fragrance that goes up from flowers
May be their seed in Heaven.
We saw Heaven in her face, may we
Her future face in Heaven see.
In some far spring of brighter bloom,
More life, and ampler breath,
My bud hath burst the folding gloom,
A-flower from dusty death!
We wonder will she be much grown?
And how will her new name be known?
More life, and ampler breath,
My bud hath burst the folding gloom,
A-flower from dusty death!
We wonder will she be much grown?
And how will her new name be known?
I saw her ribboned robe this morn,
Mine own lost little child;
Wee shoes her tiny feet had worn,
And then my heart grew wild.
We only trust ourselves to peep
In on them when we want to weep.
Mine own lost little child;
Wee shoes her tiny feet had worn,
And then my heart grew wild.
We only trust ourselves to peep
In on them when we want to weep.
But hearts will break or eyes must weep,
And so we bend above
These treasures of old days that keep
The fragrance of young love.
The harvest-field though reaped and bare
Still hath two patient gleaners there.
And so we bend above
These treasures of old days that keep
The fragrance of young love.
179
Still hath two patient gleaners there.
I never think of her sweet eyes
In dusky death now dim,
But waters of my heart will rise,
And there they smile and swim,
Forget-me-nots so blue, so dear,
Swim in the waters of a tear.
In dusky death now dim,
But waters of my heart will rise,
And there they smile and swim,
Forget-me-nots so blue, so dear,
Swim in the waters of a tear.
How often in the days gone by
She lifted her dear head,
And stretched wee arms for me to lie
Down in her little bed;
And cradled in my happy breast
Was softly carried into rest.
She lifted her dear head,
And stretched wee arms for me to lie
Down in her little bed;
And cradled in my happy breast
Was softly carried into rest.
And now when life is sore oppressed
And runs with weary wave,
I long to lay me down and rest
In little Marian's grave:
To smile as peaceful as she smiled—
For I am now the nestling child.
And runs with weary wave,
I long to lay me down and rest
In little Marian's grave:
To smile as peaceful as she smiled—
For I am now the nestling child.
Immortal Love, a spirit of bliss
And brightness, moves above,
While here forever Sorrow is
A shadow cast by Love.
But love for her no sorrow will bring
And no more tearful leaves-taking.
And brightness, moves above,
While here forever Sorrow is
A shadow cast by Love.
But love for her no sorrow will bring
And no more tearful leaves-taking.
No passing sorrows on their march
Will leave sad foot-prints now,
No troubles strain the tender arch
Of that white baby brow.
No cares to cloud, no tears that come
To rob the cheek of dainty bloom.
Will leave sad foot-prints now,
No troubles strain the tender arch
Of that white baby brow.
180
To rob the cheek of dainty bloom.
All sweetest shapes that Beauty wears
Are round about her drawn;
Auroral hues, and vernal airs,
And blessings of the dawn;
All loveliness that ne'er grows less;
Time cannot touch her tenderness.
Are round about her drawn;
Auroral hues, and vernal airs,
And blessings of the dawn;
All loveliness that ne'er grows less;
Time cannot touch her tenderness.
The patient calm that comes with years,
Hath made us cease to fret,
Though sometimes in the sudden tears
Dumb hearts will quiver yet:
And each one turns the face, and tries
To hide Who looks through parent eyes.
Hath made us cease to fret,
Though sometimes in the sudden tears
Dumb hearts will quiver yet:
And each one turns the face, and tries
To hide Who looks through parent eyes.
| My Lyrical Life | |