 | The Poems of John Rollin Ridge -- A reproduction of the 1868
publication plus fugitive poems and notes. |  |
TO L---- ON RECEIVING HER PORTRAIT
LONG years have passed, and I have seen thee not,
Save in my waking and my nightly dreams,
When rose our quiet well-remembered cot
In that far land of pleasant woods and streams.
Save in my waking and my nightly dreams,
When rose our quiet well-remembered cot
In that far land of pleasant woods and streams.
Around my brow the storms of thought have swept,
And o'er my brain their quivering lightnings played,
Yet mem'ry bath survived the shock and kept
Unharmed the impress which thy love has made.
And o'er my brain their quivering lightnings played,
Yet mem'ry bath survived the shock and kept
Unharmed the impress which thy love has made.
Disease hath fed upon my frame, and I
Have deemed it would be sweet to sleep beneath
The sod! I thought of thee, and would not die,
But struggled wish my pain and conquer'd death.
Have deemed it would be sweet to sleep beneath
The sod! I thought of thee, and would not die,
But struggled wish my pain and conquer'd death.
Within the shadows of the mountains tall,
Which seemed the wings of grand and gloomy thought,
I've laid me down and dreamed-- forgetting all
Save thee and thy sweet holy love unbought.
Which seemed the wings of grand and gloomy thought,
I've laid me down and dreamed-- forgetting all
Save thee and thy sweet holy love unbought.
Deep in the forests lone and dark I've sat,
'Till sense and soul were charmed; and I did take
The voice of streams for thine, and dreaming that
Thyself was there, I wept for joy's own sake.
'Till sense and soul were charmed; and I did take
The voice of streams for thine, and dreaming that
Thyself was there, I wept for joy's own sake.
Oft gazing on the Heavens, I've seen thy form
Of loveliness far floating midst the blue,
Or lying on the couch of Evening warm,
Whose blush was like thine own cheeks' rosy hue.
Of loveliness far floating midst the blue,
Or lying on the couch of Evening warm,
Whose blush was like thine own cheeks' rosy hue.
And now that thy fair features meet my eyes,
Presented lifelike by the skill of art,
I feel a thousand raptures bird-like rise,
And form sweet music-circles round my heart.
Presented lifelike by the skill of art,
I feel a thousand raptures bird-like rise,
And form sweet music-circles round my heart.
I look again: alas, those eyes are sad
As lonely stars that in the ocean sit!
Reproach me not, sweet orbs! for life has had
Few charms for me since last those eyes I met.
As lonely stars that in the ocean sit!
Reproach me not, sweet orbs! for life has had
Few charms for me since last those eyes I met.
I turn away: I cannot bear those eyes
Of melancholy meaning, calm and deep;
They speak to me of rudely rended ties--
And life's stern task allows no time to weep.
Of melancholy meaning, calm and deep;
They speak to me of rudely rended ties--
And life's stern task allows no time to weep.
| The Poems of John Rollin Ridge -- A reproduction of the 1868
publication plus fugitive poems and notes. | |