 | Poems by Rose Terry |  |
11
POEMS.
18
A STORY.
In a gleam of sunshine a gentian stood,
Dreaming her life away,
While the leaves danced merrily through the wood,
And rode on the wind for play.
Dreaming her life away,
While the leaves danced merrily through the wood,
And rode on the wind for play.
She stood in the light and looked at the sky,
Till her leaves were as fair a blue;
But she shut her heart from the butterfly
And the coaxing drops of dew.
Till her leaves were as fair a blue;
But she shut her heart from the butterfly
And the coaxing drops of dew.
Dreaming and sunning that autumn noon,
She stayed the idlest bee
That ever lingered to hear the tune
Of the wind in a rustling tree.
She stayed the idlest bee
That ever lingered to hear the tune
Of the wind in a rustling tree.
He had a golden cuirass on,
And a surcoat black as night,
And he wandered ever from shade to sun,
Seeking his own delight.
And a surcoat black as night,
And he wandered ever from shade to sun,
Seeking his own delight.
19
Now were the blossoms of Summer fled,
And the bumble-bee felt the frost;
He knew that the asters all lay dead,
And the honey-vine cups were lost.
And the bumble-bee felt the frost;
He knew that the asters all lay dead,
And the honey-vine cups were lost.
So he poised and fluttered above the flower,
And tried his tenderest arts,
With whispers and kisses, a weary hour,
Till he opened its heart of hearts.
And tried his tenderest arts,
With whispers and kisses, a weary hour,
Till he opened its heart of hearts.
Not for love of the gentian blue,
But for his own wild will;
All he wanted was honey-dew,
And there he drank his fill.
But for his own wild will;
All he wanted was honey-dew,
And there he drank his fill.
No more dreaming in sun or shade!
It never could close again!
The gentian withered, alone, dismayed;
The bee flew over the plain.
It never could close again!
The gentian withered, alone, dismayed;
The bee flew over the plain.
25
FRATERNITÉ.
Crœsus, gilt martyr of a bank,
Barred round with ingots yellow,
The poet whom you do not thank,
Is not a “wretched fellow”!
The garret of his dreaming sleep
Is tapestried with splendor,
Whose glitter makes no angels weep;
His heart is true and tender.
Barred round with ingots yellow,
The poet whom you do not thank,
Is not a “wretched fellow”!
The garret of his dreaming sleep
Is tapestried with splendor,
Whose glitter makes no angels weep;
His heart is true and tender.
Poet, the Dives you despise
Has pleasure in his money!
Dear butterfly, some beauty lies
To bees in making honey!
The gold and jewels of your flowers
He copies in his treasure;
Must all your brother's happy hours
Be meted with your measure?
Has pleasure in his money!
Dear butterfly, some beauty lies
To bees in making honey!
The gold and jewels of your flowers
He copies in his treasure;
Must all your brother's happy hours
Be meted with your measure?
Fair woman, whose averted eyes
Cast scorn on shame's poor daughter,
The soul whose kindred yours denies
Was limpid once as water!
Who kept thee from the precipice,
Where sin with love-lips kissed her?
Through Him who granted Mary's peace,
Pray for thy wretched sister!
Cast scorn on shame's poor daughter,
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Was limpid once as water!
Who kept thee from the precipice,
Where sin with love-lips kissed her?
Through Him who granted Mary's peace,
Pray for thy wretched sister!
And thou, on earth most desolate,
Blame not the passer by thee,
Whose veiled eyes droop not out of hate,
Whose thoughts no love deny thee!
If custom-kept, she walks apart,
Her pity grows the stronger;
And louder echo through her heart
His words,—“Go, sin no longer.”
Blame not the passer by thee,
Whose veiled eyes droop not out of hate,
Whose thoughts no love deny thee!
If custom-kept, she walks apart,
Her pity grows the stronger;
And louder echo through her heart
His words,—“Go, sin no longer.”
If there are mountains in the world,
Are there not also valleys!
Where Love's blue standard swings unfurled,
There every true heart rallies.
Ranked in one hope, the difference dies
That keeps us from each other,
And underneath millennial skies,
Each man becomes a brother.
Are there not also valleys!
Where Love's blue standard swings unfurled,
There every true heart rallies.
Ranked in one hope, the difference dies
That keeps us from each other,
And underneath millennial skies,
Each man becomes a brother.
29
WOOD WORSHIP.
Here, in the silent forest solitudes,
Deep in the quiet of these lonely shades,
The angelic peace of heaven forever broods,
And His own presence fills the solemn glades.
Deep in the quiet of these lonely shades,
The angelic peace of heaven forever broods,
And His own presence fills the solemn glades.
Cease, my weak soul, the courts of men to tread,
Leave the tumultuous heavings of thy kind,
And, by the soul of grateful nature led,
Seek the still woods and there thy Sabbath find.
Leave the tumultuous heavings of thy kind,
And, by the soul of grateful nature led,
Seek the still woods and there thy Sabbath find.
Shall worship only live in pillared domes,—
The organ's pealing notes sole anthems raise,—
While every wind that through the forest roams,
Draws from its whispering boughs a chant of praise?
The organ's pealing notes sole anthems raise,—
While every wind that through the forest roams,
Draws from its whispering boughs a chant of praise?
Here the thick leaves that scent the tremulous air
Let the bright sunshine pass with softened light,
And lips unwonted breathe instinctive prayer,
In these cool arches filled with verdurous night.
Let the bright sunshine pass with softened light,
And lips unwonted breathe instinctive prayer,
In these cool arches filled with verdurous night.
30
There needs no bending knee, no costly shrine,
No fluctuant crowd to hail divinity;
Here the heart kneels, and owns the love divine,
That made for man the earth so fair and free.
No fluctuant crowd to hail divinity;
Here the heart kneels, and owns the love divine,
That made for man the earth so fair and free.
Dear is the choral hymn, the murmuring sound
Of mutual prayer, and words of holy power;
But give to me the forest's awe profound,
Æolian hymns, and sermons from a flower!
Of mutual prayer, and words of holy power;
But give to me the forest's awe profound,
Æolian hymns, and sermons from a flower!
34
A CHILD'S WISH.
“Be my fairy, mother,
Give me a wish a day;
Something, as well in sunshine
As when the rain-drops play.”
Give me a wish a day;
Something, as well in sunshine
As when the rain-drops play.”
“And if I were a fairy,
With but one wish to spare,
What should I give thee, darling,
To quiet thine earnest prayer?”
With but one wish to spare,
What should I give thee, darling,
To quiet thine earnest prayer?”
“I'd like a little brook, mother,
All for my very own,
To laugh all day among the trees,
And shine on the mossy stone;
All for my very own,
To laugh all day among the trees,
And shine on the mossy stone;
“To run right under the window,
And sing me fast asleep,
With soft steps and a tender sound,
Over the grass to creep.
And sing me fast asleep,
With soft steps and a tender sound,
Over the grass to creep.
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“Make it run down the hill, mother,
With a leap like a tinkling bell,
So fast I never can catch the leaf
That into its fountain fell.
With a leap like a tinkling bell,
So fast I never can catch the leaf
That into its fountain fell.
“Make it as wild as a frightened bird,
As crazy as a bee,
And a noise like the baby's funny laugh;
That's the brook for me!”
As crazy as a bee,
And a noise like the baby's funny laugh;
That's the brook for me!”
36
FALL.
I heard a tree to its sole self complain,
Amid whose robes of rust and scarlet stain
The solemn sunshine poured its golden rain.
Amid whose robes of rust and scarlet stain
The solemn sunshine poured its golden rain.
Strange as the mournful sounds that steal through sleep,
As if a mist should strive in dews to weep,
The low, sad cadence past my sense did creep.
As if a mist should strive in dews to weep,
The low, sad cadence past my sense did creep.
“Ah! little, tender, dancing leaves, that first
Out of my sere and wintry branches burst,
With mildest showers and April sunshine nurst;
Out of my sere and wintry branches burst,
With mildest showers and April sunshine nurst;
“More verdant garlands, fresh with life and June,
Wherein the light winds played a fairy tune,
And set them glittering to the quiet moon;
Wherein the light winds played a fairy tune,
And set them glittering to the quiet moon;
“Then, in their prime, the thick, green summer leaves,
Lost in whose rustling depth the cricket grieves,
Or the quaint spider radiant tracery weaves;
Lost in whose rustling depth the cricket grieves,
Or the quaint spider radiant tracery weaves;
37
“Swift ye forsake, slow fluttering to the ground,
These desolate boughs no more with glory crowned,
Where every rain may breathe its sighing sound.
These desolate boughs no more with glory crowned,
Where every rain may breathe its sighing sound.
“One, and another, and another yet;
No time for grief to ripen to regret!
Full on my brow stands the sharp coronet.
No time for grief to ripen to regret!
Full on my brow stands the sharp coronet.
“Did the cold terror, curdling at my heart,
Strike sudden death, and force your clasp apart,
I too were all too chill to feel ye part.
Strike sudden death, and force your clasp apart,
I too were all too chill to feel ye part.
“But warm and fierce the vital torrent flows,
As keener thorns surround the brightest rose,
Death's bitterest draught life's ardor only knows.”
As keener thorns surround the brightest rose,
Death's bitterest draught life's ardor only knows.”
51
THERE.
“La-bas! la-bas! sous la verdure!”
Oh! if I were buried,
Love, thy sweetness could not leave me,
Nor thy smile, false Hope, deceive me,
Neither joy nor terror grieve me
There.
Love, thy sweetness could not leave me,
Nor thy smile, false Hope, deceive me,
Neither joy nor terror grieve me
There.
Oh that I were buried!
Grass above mine eyelids growing,
Overhead the wild winds blowing,
Peacefully the slow years flowing,
There.
Grass above mine eyelids growing,
Overhead the wild winds blowing,
Peacefully the slow years flowing,
There.
Oh! if I were buried,
Then my heart were filled forever,
Throbbing pulses cease to quiver,
Cooled in rapture's tranquil river,
There.
Then my heart were filled forever,
Throbbing pulses cease to quiver,
Cooled in rapture's tranquil river,
There.
52
Oh that I were buried!
Never any wearied dreaming,
No more night and no more seeming,
Truth's eternal splendor beaming,
There.
Never any wearied dreaming,
No more night and no more seeming,
Truth's eternal splendor beaming,
There.
Oh! if I were buried,
They who leave me to my sighing,
Would repent above my dying,
But I should not hear their crying
There.
They who leave me to my sighing,
Would repent above my dying,
But I should not hear their crying
There.
53
THE DESIRE OF THE MOTH.
Golden-colored miller,
Leave the lamp, and fly away!
In that flame so brightly gleaming,
Sure, though smiling, death is beaming;
Hasten to thy play!
Leave the lamp, and fly away!
In that flame so brightly gleaming,
Sure, though smiling, death is beaming;
Hasten to thy play!
Nearer? foolish miller!
Look! thy tiny wings will burn.
Just escaped,—but soon 'twill reach thee;
Ah! can dying only teach thee
Truths thou wilt not learn?
Look! thy tiny wings will burn.
Just escaped,—but soon 'twill reach thee;
Ah! can dying only teach thee
Truths thou wilt not learn?
Didst thou whisper, miller?
Something like a voice and sigh
Seemed to say,—“in all thy teaching,
Is there practice, or but preaching;
Doest thou more than I?”
Something like a voice and sigh
Seemed to say,—“in all thy teaching,
Is there practice, or but preaching;
Doest thou more than I?”
Wisest little miller!
I indeed have hung too long
Round a flame more wildly burning,
And, with heart too fond and yearning,
Heard no charmer's song.
I indeed have hung too long
54
And, with heart too fond and yearning,
Heard no charmer's song.
Blinder than a miller
Hovering with devoted gaze,
Where such visions vain I cherish,
Either they or I must perish,
Like that flickering blaze.
Hovering with devoted gaze,
Where such visions vain I cherish,
Either they or I must perish,
Like that flickering blaze.
But the moonlight, miller,
Better far befits our mirth;
That calm, streaming light is given
From the silent depths of heaven;
Fire is born of earth!
Better far befits our mirth;
That calm, streaming light is given
From the silent depths of heaven;
Fire is born of earth!
57
RECORDARE.
M.
Even as the Summer cries,
When the sunshine southward flies,
Weeping, weeping silently,
So I sit and mourn for thee.
When the sunshine southward flies,
Weeping, weeping silently,
So I sit and mourn for thee.
Dreams that to thy dwelling go,
And come home alone and slow,
Constant springs of sorrow be,
As I sit and mourn for thee.
And come home alone and slow,
Constant springs of sorrow be,
As I sit and mourn for thee.
I remember all thy ways,
Sweeter than my lips can praise;
All I give that memory,
Is to sit and mourn for thee.
Sweeter than my lips can praise;
All I give that memory,
Is to sit and mourn for thee.
How should angels longer spare
One on earth without compare?
Thou, to their dear company,—
I, to sit and mourn for thee.
One on earth without compare?
Thou, to their dear company,—
I, to sit and mourn for thee.
58
For the living be the moan.
Widowed, motherless, alone,
Love! alone for them and me,
Here I sit and mourn for thee.
Widowed, motherless, alone,
Love! alone for them and me,
Here I sit and mourn for thee.
Cradled in divine repose,
Thy new life of rapture flows.
God be thanked! too blest to see
How I sit and mourn for thee!
Thy new life of rapture flows.
God be thanked! too blest to see
How I sit and mourn for thee!
61
SONG.
Airs of Summer that softly blow,
Sing your whispering songs to me,
Over the grass like a shadow go,
Flutter your wings in the rustling tree.
Sing your whispering songs to me,
Over the grass like a shadow go,
Flutter your wings in the rustling tree.
Curl the wave on the sunny sand,
Rock the bee in its rose asleep,
Scatter odors from strand to strand,
Over ocean in laughter sweep.
Rock the bee in its rose asleep,
Scatter odors from strand to strand,
Over ocean in laughter sweep.
Kiss the snows on the mountain height,
Vex the river that leaps beneath,
Sing in the fir-trees your sweet good-night,
And cease like a baby's slumbering breath.
Vex the river that leaps beneath,
Sing in the fir-trees your sweet good-night,
And cease like a baby's slumbering breath.
64
LA COQUETTE.
You look at me with tender eyes,
That, had you worn a month ago,
Had slain me with divine surprise:—
But now I do not see them glow.
That, had you worn a month ago,
Had slain me with divine surprise:—
But now I do not see them glow.
I laugh to hear your laughter take
A softer thrill, a doubtful tone,—
I know you do it for my sake.
You rob the nest whose bird is flown.
A softer thrill, a doubtful tone,—
I know you do it for my sake.
You rob the nest whose bird is flown.
Not twice a fool, if twice a child!
I know you now, and care no more
For any lie you may have smiled,
Than that starved beggar at your door.
I know you now, and care no more
For any lie you may have smiled,
Than that starved beggar at your door.
He has the remnants of your feast;
You offer me your wasted heart!
He may enact the welcome guest;
I shake the dust off and depart.
You offer me your wasted heart!
He may enact the welcome guest;
I shake the dust off and depart.
65
If you had known a woman's grace
And pitied me who died for you,
I could not look you in the face,
When now you tell me you are “true.”
And pitied me who died for you,
I could not look you in the face,
When now you tell me you are “true.”
True!—If the fallen seraphs wear
A lovelier face of false surprise
Than you at my unmoving air,
There is no truth this side the skies.
A lovelier face of false surprise
Than you at my unmoving air,
There is no truth this side the skies.
But this is true, that once I loved.—
You scorned and laughed to see me die;
And now you think the heart so proved
Beneath your feet again shall lie!
You scorned and laughed to see me die;
And now you think the heart so proved
Beneath your feet again shall lie!
I had the pain when you had power;
Now mine the power, who reaps the pain?
You sowed the wind in that black hour;
Receive the whirlwind for your gain!
Now mine the power, who reaps the pain?
You sowed the wind in that black hour;
Receive the whirlwind for your gain!
72
SEPTEMBER.
Sorrowful Autumn! my summer is over;
Roses no longer shall surfeit the bee;
White crowding daisies and honey-sweet clover
Shiver and perish, breathed on by thee.
Roses no longer shall surfeit the bee;
White crowding daisies and honey-sweet clover
Shiver and perish, breathed on by thee.
All the fair blossoms that trembled at morning,
Heavy with dew in the wandering wind,
Hang their frail bells at thy trumpet of warning,
Scatter their lives on the tempest unkind.
Heavy with dew in the wandering wind,
Hang their frail bells at thy trumpet of warning,
Scatter their lives on the tempest unkind.
Over the forest the bitterns are flying,
Golden and scarlet the maple-trees stand,
Out of the black East a rain-song is sighing,
Pitiless, desolate, death is at hand!
Golden and scarlet the maple-trees stand,
Out of the black East a rain-song is sighing,
Pitiless, desolate, death is at hand!
Far in the North, like a vision of sorrow,
Rise the white snow-drifts to topple and fall;
Winds of wild fury shall hurl them to-morrow
Deeply and hopelessly far over all.
Rise the white snow-drifts to topple and fall;
Winds of wild fury shall hurl them to-morrow
Deeply and hopelessly far over all.
73
Ah! what new Spring shall awaken the glory
Vanished forever in darkness to-day?
Falser than fair is Hope's eloquent story,
Roses once withered are withered for aye.
Vanished forever in darkness to-day?
Falser than fair is Hope's eloquent story,
Roses once withered are withered for aye.
74
THE LOST ANCHOR.
There lies a rusted anchor
Deep in the white sea-sand;
Where trails the good ship's cable
That parted, strand by strand?
Deep in the white sea-sand;
Where trails the good ship's cable
That parted, strand by strand?
The north-wind roared and thundered,
The leaping waves ran high;
Dark on the foaming water
Shut down the stormy sky.
The leaping waves ran high;
Dark on the foaming water
Shut down the stormy sky.
But still the lithe mast quivered
Under the flapping sail;
The cordage shrieked and rattled,
And yelled the furious gale.
Under the flapping sail;
The cordage shrieked and rattled,
And yelled the furious gale.
One strain—one plunge—one struggle—
The mighty strands give way—
Now far from home and harbor,
Away, away, away!
The mighty strands give way—
Now far from home and harbor,
Away, away, away!
75
Beyond the sight of shelter,
Far out her stern-lights shine.
Poor ship, to lose thine anchor,
Poor broken hope of mine!
Far out her stern-lights shine.
Poor ship, to lose thine anchor,
Poor broken hope of mine!
78
FANTASIA.
When I am a sea-flower
Under the cool green tide,
Where the sunshine slants and quivers,
And the quaint, gray fishes glide,
I'll shut and sleep at noonday,
At night on the waves I'll ride,
And see the surf in moonshine
Rush on the black rocks' side.
Under the cool green tide,
Where the sunshine slants and quivers,
And the quaint, gray fishes glide,
I'll shut and sleep at noonday,
At night on the waves I'll ride,
And see the surf in moonshine
Rush on the black rocks' side.
When I am a sea-bird,
Under the clouds I'll fly,
And 'light on a rocking billow
Tossing low and high.
Safe from the lee-shore's thunder,
Mocking the mariner's cry,
Drifting away on the tempest,
A speck on the sullen sky!
Under the clouds I'll fly,
And 'light on a rocking billow
Tossing low and high.
Safe from the lee-shore's thunder,
Mocking the mariner's cry,
Drifting away on the tempest,
A speck on the sullen sky!
When I am a sea-wind,
I'll watch for a ship I know,
Through the sails and rigging
Merrily I will blow.
The crew shall be like dead men
White with horror and woe;
Then I'll sing like a spirit,
And let the good ship go.
I'll watch for a ship I know,
79
Merrily I will blow.
The crew shall be like dead men
White with horror and woe;
Then I'll sing like a spirit,
And let the good ship go.
80
SONG.
Night comes creeping slowly o'er me,
Like a vapor cold and gray;
Dim the track that lies before me,
Lost the lingering smile of day.
Like a vapor cold and gray;
Dim the track that lies before me,
Lost the lingering smile of day.
As a river, nearing ocean,
Drops the brooklet's merry bell,
I forget hope's wild emotion;
Love and life, farewell, farewell!
Drops the brooklet's merry bell,
I forget hope's wild emotion;
Love and life, farewell, farewell!
Eyes above me raining sorrow,
Lips too tender to be true,
In the sunshine of to-morrow
Glow and sweetness shall renew.
Lips too tender to be true,
In the sunshine of to-morrow
Glow and sweetness shall renew.
I have trod a weary measure,
Fairy-tales no more I tell.
False is pain, and fleeting pleasure;
Love and life, farewell, farewell!
Fairy-tales no more I tell.
False is pain, and fleeting pleasure;
Love and life, farewell, farewell!
81
Softly through the darkened heaven,
Like a vision in the night,
Float the purple wings of even;
No more laughter, no more light.
Like a vision in the night,
Float the purple wings of even;
No more laughter, no more light.
Close mine eyes, worn out with weeping,
Weary pulses rest as well!
In the dust and silence sleeping,
Love and life, farewell, farewell!
Weary pulses rest as well!
In the dust and silence sleeping,
Love and life, farewell, farewell!
88
MY RED CARNATION.
S. C. W.
Redder than any summer-rose,
Far redder than the garnet glows,
And set beside the lily's snows,
Fair blossom, bloom for me!
With Indian breath of sun-kissed spice,
And dainty petals, point-device,
What florist ever knew thy price,
Or half thy charms could see?
Far redder than the garnet glows,
And set beside the lily's snows,
Fair blossom, bloom for me!
With Indian breath of sun-kissed spice,
And dainty petals, point-device,
What florist ever knew thy price,
Or half thy charms could see?
As tropic in thy breathing glow,
As if Asiatic winds did blow
Thy crown of beauty to and fro,
And sway thy slender stem;
Yet statelier in floral pride
Than any queen that flaunts a bride,
Such quaint and courtly graces glide
Around thy diadem.
As if Asiatic winds did blow
Thy crown of beauty to and fro,
And sway thy slender stem;
Yet statelier in floral pride
Than any queen that flaunts a bride,
Such quaint and courtly graces glide
Around thy diadem.
89
Thy leaf should point its verdant lance
By castle-walls of old romance,
Where fountains to the soft airs dance,
And glittering peacocks trail;
Or white swans break the sullen sleep
Of some old lake, set dark and deep
Among the trees that o'er it weep
When autumn eves grow pale.
By castle-walls of old romance,
Where fountains to the soft airs dance,
And glittering peacocks trail;
Or white swans break the sullen sleep
Of some old lake, set dark and deep
Among the trees that o'er it weep
When autumn eves grow pale.
The violet hath a fond perfume,
The passion-flower a mystic bloom,
And heather spreads its cloud of gloom
O'er highland mountains bare;
The red rose veils a heart of flame,
And blushes with unconscious shame,
The snow-drop fits its icy name,
Most frigid and most fair.
The passion-flower a mystic bloom,
And heather spreads its cloud of gloom
O'er highland mountains bare;
The red rose veils a heart of flame,
And blushes with unconscious shame,
The snow-drop fits its icy name,
Most frigid and most fair.
But thou art love that pride adorns
The rose's heart without its thorns,
A child of summer's fragrant morns,
Dew-christened by the night.
Ah! cold and fair to others be,
But spread thy glowing heart to me,
And, as thou wert, still ever be
My darling and delight.
The rose's heart without its thorns,
A child of summer's fragrant morns,
Dew-christened by the night.
Ah! cold and fair to others be,
But spread thy glowing heart to me,
And, as thou wert, still ever be
My darling and delight.
96
A PICTURE.
Upon her pale cheek, day by day,
No tender, rosy blushes play;
The shadows gathered on her hair
Lie soft above her forehead fair;
A frailer shade is she.
No tender, rosy blushes play;
The shadows gathered on her hair
Lie soft above her forehead fair;
A frailer shade is she.
No footstep on the stone goes by,
But strikes a fire across her eye;
No sudden voice a word can speak,
But flashes red light on her cheek;
Such guards her quick thoughts be.
But strikes a fire across her eye;
No sudden voice a word can speak,
But flashes red light on her cheek;
Such guards her quick thoughts be.
All day she sees the sullen rain
Splash slow against the window-pane;
All night the south-wind makes its moan,
About her chamber low and lone;
She cannot die nor rest.
Splash slow against the window-pane;
All night the south-wind makes its moan,
About her chamber low and lone;
She cannot die nor rest.
Like some old saint in cell withdrawn,
In prayer and penance till the dawn,
So her sad soul its vigil holds,
As year on year to life unfolds,
And wears her patient breast.
In prayer and penance till the dawn,
97
As year on year to life unfolds,
And wears her patient breast.
Not any leech can find a cure
For these slow miseries that endure,
Till heaven before her eyes shall ope
The golden gate foreseen by hope,
And medicine her heart.
For these slow miseries that endure,
Till heaven before her eyes shall ope
The golden gate foreseen by hope,
And medicine her heart.
There is no new life for the dead,
No gathering up the tears once shed;
Pray, ye beloved, who pity her,
That God no more that rest defer;
Pray that her soul depart.
No gathering up the tears once shed;
Pray, ye beloved, who pity her,
That God no more that rest defer;
Pray that her soul depart.
98
ROSEMARY.
Earth's singing time and floral weather,
With golden flower and scarlet feather,
Have vanished in the South together,
And left me with the frost.
Where thrush and oriole hovered brightly,
The sparrows hop and twitter lightly,
And crows fly from the sea-ward nightly,
By hurried north-winds tossed.
With golden flower and scarlet feather,
Have vanished in the South together,
And left me with the frost.
Where thrush and oriole hovered brightly,
The sparrows hop and twitter lightly,
And crows fly from the sea-ward nightly,
By hurried north-winds tossed.
Gray storm-clouds in the dark east lying,
Through leafless woods the crickets crying,
And toward the happy tropics flying,
A line of silent birds.
All these have tales of drear November,
And bid me, shivering, here remember
Long nights when redly burns the ember,
And fast fly eager words.
Through leafless woods the crickets crying,
And toward the happy tropics flying,
A line of silent birds.
All these have tales of drear November,
And bid me, shivering, here remember
Long nights when redly burns the ember,
And fast fly eager words.
Forever past are songs and roses,
The Summer deep in leaves reposes,
And life has done with tuneful closes,
Now let the ashes sleep.
For us whose summer hymn is ending,
Its chorus with sweet echoes blending,
Shall still be on and upward tending,
Till eyes no more can weep.
The Summer deep in leaves reposes,
99
Now let the ashes sleep.
For us whose summer hymn is ending,
Its chorus with sweet echoes blending,
Shall still be on and upward tending,
Till eyes no more can weep.
Another Spring its censers swinging,
Shall wake again both bloom and singing,
And wild brooks from their dumbness springing,
Go chattering down the hills.
What if the dust beside them sleeping,
Last year had laughter, life, and weeping?
Earth drops such memories from her keeping,
To-day her whole heart fills.
Shall wake again both bloom and singing,
And wild brooks from their dumbness springing,
Go chattering down the hills.
What if the dust beside them sleeping,
Last year had laughter, life, and weeping?
Earth drops such memories from her keeping,
To-day her whole heart fills.
Now withered leaves fall in the grasses,
While rain and wind sing funeral masses,
And like a veil the dank mist passes
Across the bleak world's face.
This dreary time is fit for sorrow,
But love and hope good cheer can borrow,
And while we die, they wait the morrow
Their sunshine to replace.
While rain and wind sing funeral masses,
And like a veil the dank mist passes
Across the bleak world's face.
This dreary time is fit for sorrow,
But love and hope good cheer can borrow,
And while we die, they wait the morrow
Their sunshine to replace.
104
“CREDE TANTUM.”
Dear weeper at the grassy bed,
Where Love lies cold, with folded eyes,
The life thou mournest is not dead,
Wait, and have faith, it shall arise!
Where Love lies cold, with folded eyes,
The life thou mournest is not dead,
Wait, and have faith, it shall arise!
If, from thy narrow dell of earth,
It seems for some new heaven to soar;
Distrust not Love's immortal birth,
Believe it lives, to die no more.
It seems for some new heaven to soar;
Distrust not Love's immortal birth,
Believe it lives, to die no more.
Have faith! have faith! though cold and death
Dim the soft eye and still the heart,
Though closed the lips and hushed the breath,
Though hope and fear alike depart.
Dim the soft eye and still the heart,
Though closed the lips and hushed the breath,
Though hope and fear alike depart.
Believe, for surer than the rise
Of morning o'er the stagnant sea,
New light shall fill those frozen eyes,
New smiles shall part thy lips for thee.
Of morning o'er the stagnant sea,
New light shall fill those frozen eyes,
New smiles shall part thy lips for thee.
105
Love never dies: it cannot die;
Nor flood, nor fire, nor rending heaven,
Can make the heart its life deny,
Or gather back the gift once given.
Nor flood, nor fire, nor rending heaven,
Can make the heart its life deny,
Or gather back the gift once given.
There comes a Spring for every snow,
For every death a life hereafter;
And they whose tears have bitterest flow,
Shall fill their lips with sweetest laughter.
For every death a life hereafter;
And they whose tears have bitterest flow,
Shall fill their lips with sweetest laughter.
108
JULY XXIV.
Come back! come back! forsake thy rest,
And tread the darkened paths of men!
Bring gladness to the lonely breast,
Peace to the troubled dreams again.
And tread the darkened paths of men!
Bring gladness to the lonely breast,
Peace to the troubled dreams again.
Nor yet without a ransom, Death,
I plead to loose thy dread embrace!
I offer thee but breath for breath,
Give this one life to fill my place.
I plead to loose thy dread embrace!
I offer thee but breath for breath,
Give this one life to fill my place.
For thee, lost sleeper, tears are shed
That fall not for the slave set free;
Thou, mourned as those too early dead;
I, mourning in captivity.
That fall not for the slave set free;
Thou, mourned as those too early dead;
I, mourning in captivity.
For thee the life-rose, blooming, glowed;
I long perceive its naked thorn;
For thee, soft spread the widening road
I see grow narrower every morn.
I long perceive its naked thorn;
For thee, soft spread the widening road
I see grow narrower every morn.
109
Send the keen rapture of surprise,
A sudden joy through silent hearts,
And shut a smile within mine eyes,
Like one who for his home departs.
A sudden joy through silent hearts,
And shut a smile within mine eyes,
Like one who for his home departs.
Come back! come back! the love and grief,
Poured on thy sleep, may yet be mine,
As late dews mourn the fallen leaf,
That on its sunlight would not shine.
Poured on thy sleep, may yet be mine,
As late dews mourn the fallen leaf,
That on its sunlight would not shine.
114
TWILIGHT.
Alone I watch the setting sun
Brighten the hill-tops in the west,
And clouds that on the swift winds run
To gather splendour o'er his rest.
Brighten the hill-tops in the west,
And clouds that on the swift winds run
To gather splendour o'er his rest.
Oh! had I but those wings of air,
Across the mountain heights to flee!
Thine eyes should lose their shade of care,
Thy weary face grow bright for me.
Across the mountain heights to flee!
Thine eyes should lose their shade of care,
Thy weary face grow bright for me.
Or could I capture sparks of fire,
To do the message of my thought,
Their joyful speed no space should tire,
Till love and light for thee they brought.
To do the message of my thought,
Their joyful speed no space should tire,
Till love and light for thee they brought.
But darker, deeper, grows the night,
And my sad thoughts more restless far;
I would I were a ray of light
To greet thee from yon lonely star.
And my sad thoughts more restless far;
I would I were a ray of light
To greet thee from yon lonely star.
115
Dear star! watch gently from on high,
What my frail vision cannot see;
A gentler and more powerful eye,
Shines through thy tender gleam for me.
What my frail vision cannot see;
A gentler and more powerful eye,
Shines through thy tender gleam for me.
One heart, o'er mountains, through the night,
Protects and loves, while I despair;
He turns the depths of gloom to light,
And gives my wishes wings of prayer.
Protects and loves, while I despair;
He turns the depths of gloom to light,
And gives my wishes wings of prayer.
119
CHAMOMILE.
Now heart! send forth thy sweetness!
Crushed,—trampled in the dust,—
Remember God is just:
And for man's incompleteness
Let the soft incense of thy pity rise:
Make a burnt-offering of the sacrifice!
Crushed,—trampled in the dust,—
Remember God is just:
And for man's incompleteness
Let the soft incense of thy pity rise:
Make a burnt-offering of the sacrifice!
Think, in thy bitter anguish,
Thou hast not done the wrong,—
This echo of a song
Whose faint, sad minors languish
Against thy will or care, shall comfort thee,
Wouldst thou the wounded or the weapon be?
Thou hast not done the wrong,—
This echo of a song
Whose faint, sad minors languish
Against thy will or care, shall comfort thee,
Wouldst thou the wounded or the weapon be?
Art thou too weak and weary,
Too pitiless in pain,
To love where love is vain?
Waste starlight on the dreary,
The self-lost, and the cold? for such is one
For whom thy vernal life is all undone.
Too pitiless in pain,
To love where love is vain?
Waste starlight on the dreary,
The self-lost, and the cold? for such is one
For whom thy vernal life is all undone.
120
The spring-forsaken blossom,
Drooping its pallid leaves,
Not without purpose grieves;
For hidden in its bosom
Lies the green fruit,—have patience, trust, and truth;
God keeps the sunshine of thy darkened youth.
Drooping its pallid leaves,
Not without purpose grieves;
For hidden in its bosom
Lies the green fruit,—have patience, trust, and truth;
God keeps the sunshine of thy darkened youth.
Sore, bruised, and bleeding
Under the cruel tread,
Let thy pure odors spread,
And up to heaven pleading,
Draw showered forgiveness on the heart of stone,
More pitiful than thine, because far more alone.
Under the cruel tread,
Let thy pure odors spread,
And up to heaven pleading,
Draw showered forgiveness on the heart of stone,
More pitiful than thine, because far more alone.
123
“YOURS EVER.”
No more, no more! the words are vain;
No longer mine, and ne'er to be:
The dead heart cannot live again,
The stream run upward from the sea.
No longer mine, and ne'er to be:
The dead heart cannot live again,
The stream run upward from the sea.
The past is past, forever fled:
I lost thee on a weary day,
My life's one prayer was backward read,
My soul's last refuge torn away.
I lost thee on a weary day,
My life's one prayer was backward read,
My soul's last refuge torn away.
Not mine, not mine! no, never mine.
What years shall gather to their bough
The sere leaves of the blasted pine?
Think what I was!—what am I now?
What years shall gather to their bough
The sere leaves of the blasted pine?
Think what I was!—what am I now?
Not God, nor I, had rent apart
Thy tender clasp of living love;
Thine own hand tore the trembling heart,
That vainly prayed, and vainly strove.
Thy tender clasp of living love;
Thine own hand tore the trembling heart,
That vainly prayed, and vainly strove.
124
No, never mine! all angels keep
Their faithful watch about thy way,
Around thy steps, above thy sleep!
To God I give thee while I may.
Their faithful watch about thy way,
Around thy steps, above thy sleep!
To God I give thee while I may.
Forever His, but never mine.
Ah! when this fearful life shall flee,
Wrapt safely in His rest divine,
I shall not even lament for thee!
Ah! when this fearful life shall flee,
Wrapt safely in His rest divine,
I shall not even lament for thee!
127
VI ET ARMIS.
My soul be strong! confront thy life,
Nor feebly moan with weak complaint;
Arouse to wage the mortal strife,
Thou shrinking coward, pale and faint!
Nor feebly moan with weak complaint;
Arouse to wage the mortal strife,
Thou shrinking coward, pale and faint!
Look up at truth's unchanging face;
That brow, though stern, is yet serene;
And sometimes, for the heart of grace,
On those calm lips a smile hath been.
That brow, though stern, is yet serene;
And sometimes, for the heart of grace,
On those calm lips a smile hath been.
The warrior on the battle-field
Lingers no more to look behind,
But raises high his bossy shield,
And casts his banner to the wind.
Lingers no more to look behind,
But raises high his bossy shield,
And casts his banner to the wind.
It will not serve thee to delay;
Shall the wide ocean cease to roar,
Because thy wild and dangerous way
Lies to its dimly visioned shore?
Shall the wide ocean cease to roar,
Because thy wild and dangerous way
Lies to its dimly visioned shore?
128
Shake off thy dreams; let faith and prayer
Light the drear way: thy path is strait,
Contagion fills the misty air,
And clustering snares around thee wait.
Light the drear way: thy path is strait,
Contagion fills the misty air,
And clustering snares around thee wait.
Hope not for succor from below!
Stars shine from heaven, but shine at night.
Be stout of heart, come weal or woe;
Forward,—and God defend the Right!
Stars shine from heaven, but shine at night.
Be stout of heart, come weal or woe;
Forward,—and God defend the Right!
129
PSYCHE TO EROS.
Survive, O Love, this sad estate;
Why shouldst thou with the sunshine fly?
Hast thou no more enduring date
Than out of one despair to die?
The fiercest tempest only brings
At worst a drenching to thy wings.
Why shouldst thou with the sunshine fly?
Hast thou no more enduring date
Than out of one despair to die?
The fiercest tempest only brings
At worst a drenching to thy wings.
Thou art not such a mortal thing,
That any agonies of pain,
Which from thy trampled offerings spring,
Can crush thee into dust again.
Look with clear eyes, and lift thy head,
Bruised, wounded, bleeding, but not dead.
That any agonies of pain,
Which from thy trampled offerings spring,
Can crush thee into dust again.
Look with clear eyes, and lift thy head,
Bruised, wounded, bleeding, but not dead.
Not dead,—there lives no mortal hand,
However mighty, strong as thou;
No human malice ever planned
A shadow that could soil thy brow.
Crowned with thy sure divinity,
Arise and reign; the shadows flee!
However mighty, strong as thou;
No human malice ever planned
A shadow that could soil thy brow.
Crowned with thy sure divinity,
Arise and reign; the shadows flee!
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?
146
THE LAST REVOLUTION.
Hurrah! the mob is up again!
I hear its distant rush and roar,
Like mad seas surging on the shore;
But this sea shall not surge in vain.
Shout, bondsmen all, for freedom's reign—
Hurrah!
I hear its distant rush and roar,
Like mad seas surging on the shore;
But this sea shall not surge in vain.
Shout, bondsmen all, for freedom's reign—
Hurrah!
A thousand, thousand hurrying feet,
Resistless, heedless, trampling by:
From the black East a shrieking cry;
The sound flies fast, the winds are fleet;
Hurrah! this liberty is sweet.
Hurrah!
Resistless, heedless, trampling by:
From the black East a shrieking cry;
The sound flies fast, the winds are fleet;
Hurrah! this liberty is sweet.
Hurrah!
Hark! is't the roar of cannonades?
A sullen thunder from afar—
The grim, exulting psalm of war,
When deep in blood the victor wades:
No! 'tis the crashing barricades.
Hurrah!
A sullen thunder from afar—
The grim, exulting psalm of war,
When deep in blood the victor wades:
No! 'tis the crashing barricades.
Hurrah!
147
A shattered throne lies on the plain;
Dead, at its foot, the hoary king.
Shout for the gay republic—Spring!
Hurrah! it hath not come in vain,
This revolution of the rain.
Hurrah!
Dead, at its foot, the hoary king.
Shout for the gay republic—Spring!
Hurrah! it hath not come in vain,
This revolution of the rain.
Hurrah!
163
CAIN.
Here it found me—“Where is thy brother?”
Out of the very heavens it fell,
Sharp as a peal of rattling thunder,
Then the echo leapt up from hell.
Out of the very heavens it fell,
Sharp as a peal of rattling thunder,
Then the echo leapt up from hell.
He—Jehovah—“Where is thy brother?”
I knew, He knew—the devil laughed.
He that gave me the staff to fell him.
So the archer reviled the shaft!
I knew, He knew—the devil laughed.
He that gave me the staff to fell him.
So the archer reviled the shaft!
Oh, my brother, my brother, my brother!
Thy blood panted and throbbed in me.
We were children of one mother,
Little children upon her knee.
Thy blood panted and throbbed in me.
We were children of one mother,
Little children upon her knee.
Oh, my brother, my brother, my brother!
Sad-eyed, tender, good, and true.
Never more on hill or valley,
Never tracked through the morning dew.
Sad-eyed, tender, good, and true.
Never more on hill or valley,
Never tracked through the morning dew.
164
I held up the staff before me.
Down it crashed on the gentle head.
One live look of wondering sorrow,
One sharp quiver—that was dead.
Down it crashed on the gentle head.
One live look of wondering sorrow,
One sharp quiver—that was dead.
Thou! Thou gavest me a brother—
Gave me a life to cast away—
Hast Thou in heaven such another?
Hast Thou in heaven a sword to slay?
Gave me a life to cast away—
Hast Thou in heaven such another?
Hast Thou in heaven a sword to slay?
Hasten Thou—“Where is thy brother?”
Voice my curst lips dare not name.
Hasten! write with thy fiery finger
On my forehead the murderer's shame.
Voice my curst lips dare not name.
Hasten! write with thy fiery finger
On my forehead the murderer's shame.
I am doomed—alone forever.
Yet, so long as the slow years part,
Thou shalt brand new Cains with curses,
Not on the forehead, but in the heart!
Yet, so long as the slow years part,
Thou shalt brand new Cains with curses,
Not on the forehead, but in the heart!
165
EBB AND FLOW.
'Tis something to have turned the tide
That ebbed and ebbed and slid away,
Till all the sands lay bare and wide,
A dreary level, bleak and gray.
That ebbed and ebbed and slid away,
Till all the sands lay bare and wide,
A dreary level, bleak and gray.
The hidden rocks, the treacherous shore,
Show black and steep above the sea;
The maddened breakers rave no more,
Full fast the outward billows flee.
Show black and steep above the sea;
The maddened breakers rave no more,
Full fast the outward billows flee.
Rest for thy moment, turning tide!
Then creep and ripple on the sand.
I fear no more thy waters wide,
I know the dangers of the strand.
Then creep and ripple on the sand.
I fear no more thy waters wide,
I know the dangers of the strand.
Now let thy white-caps foam and flow,
The soul assured may laugh at fear,
And bear serene the heaviest woe,
So that its utmost depths appear.
The soul assured may laugh at fear,
And bear serene the heaviest woe,
So that its utmost depths appear.
166
MAY.
There's a bluebird sits on the apple-tree bough,
Singing merrily and gay.
Come, little blossoms, the Spring's here now,
And the sun shines warm all day.
Singing merrily and gay.
Come, little blossoms, the Spring's here now,
And the sun shines warm all day.
Fast asleep in the leaves and grass,
Don't you hear the quick rain?
And the winds that whisper as they pass,
“The dear Spring's here again.”
Don't you hear the quick rain?
And the winds that whisper as they pass,
“The dear Spring's here again.”
Push your soft leaves out of the ground,
Open your mist-blue eyes,
Hear the brook with its singing sound,
Look at the sunny skies.
Open your mist-blue eyes,
Hear the brook with its singing sound,
Look at the sunny skies.
All the drifts of the winter snow
Were frightened and fled away.
They left their place for the grass to grow,
And the merry moths to play.
Were frightened and fled away.
They left their place for the grass to grow,
And the merry moths to play.
167
Red buds shine on the maple-tree,
The trailing May-blooms fair
Under their green leaves peep at me,
For the Spring has kissed them there.
The trailing May-blooms fair
Under their green leaves peep at me,
For the Spring has kissed them there.
Come, little blossoms, you sleep too long!
Purple and white and blue,
Open your buds to hear my song,
The honey-bee waits for you.
Purple and white and blue,
Open your buds to hear my song,
The honey-bee waits for you.
182
“THE HARVEST IS PAST.”
Go, dead Summer, o'er the seas away;
Autumn at her vespers now will kneel and pray,
Sunlit vapors on the mountains stray,
Red grows the round moon,—Summer goes away.
Autumn at her vespers now will kneel and pray,
Sunlit vapors on the mountains stray,
Red grows the round moon,—Summer goes away.
Go, dead Summer! the birds will care,
They will follow on the soft sea-air,
While the south-wind breathes a low prayer,
And the perfumed pine-leaves thy shroud prepare.
They will follow on the soft sea-air,
While the south-wind breathes a low prayer,
And the perfumed pine-leaves thy shroud prepare.
Go, dead Summer! go, to come again.
All things rise but madness and pain.
New green grasses flicker on the plain,
Only a lost life comes not again.
All things rise but madness and pain.
New green grasses flicker on the plain,
Only a lost life comes not again.
One dead Summer never shall return.
In its ashes no red embers burn.
Over it vainly the tired soul may yearn.
It is dead, wept, buried: how can it return?
In its ashes no red embers burn.
Over it vainly the tired soul may yearn.
It is dead, wept, buried: how can it return?
| Poems by Rose Terry | |