 | Poems by Rose Terry |  |
138
IMPLORA PACE.
Wind, that sighest over the snow,
Mocking the sunshine cold and gay,
I reëcho thy voice of woe,
Carry me on thy wings away!
Mocking the sunshine cold and gay,
I reëcho thy voice of woe,
Carry me on thy wings away!
Mist, that stretchest soft and far
Over the mountains a purple haze,
Like thy shadow my sad thoughts are,
Hide me safely from mortal gaze!
Over the mountains a purple haze,
Like thy shadow my sad thoughts are,
Hide me safely from mortal gaze!
Waves, that lashing in ceaseless chime,
Beat the earth till its rocks are sand,
Take on your tide this lingering time,
Or bear its slave to a gentler strand.
Beat the earth till its rocks are sand,
Take on your tide this lingering time,
Or bear its slave to a gentler strand.
Leaf, that hurriest madly by,
Sport and spoil of the eager blast:
So from memory I would fly,
So I cannot escape the past.
Sport and spoil of the eager blast:
So from memory I would fly,
So I cannot escape the past.
139
Blossoms, dead in your summer home,
Sweet no longer, forgotten and lost,
Shall the withered heart to your silence come?
Is there peace in the blight of frost?
Sweet no longer, forgotten and lost,
Shall the withered heart to your silence come?
Is there peace in the blight of frost?
| Poems by Rose Terry | |