University of Virginia Library


78

BLANCHE

Broad leaves that I do not know
Grow upon the leaves full low
Over them the wind does blow.
Hemlock leaves I know full well,
And about me is the smell
That doth in the spring woods dwell.
And the finch sings cheerily,
And the wren sings merrily,
But the lark sings trancedly.
Silv'ry birch-trunks rise in air
And beneath the birch-tree there
Grows a yellow flower fair.
Many flowers grow around
And about me is the sound
Of the dead leaves on the ground.
Yea, I fell asleep last night
When the moon at her full height
Was a lovely, lovely sight.
I have had a troubled dream,
As I lay there in the beam
Of the moon a sudden gleam
Of a white dress shot by me,
Yea, the white dress frighted me
Flitting by the aspen tree.
Suddenly it turned round,
With a weary moaning sound
Lay the white dress on the ground.

79

There she knelt upon her knees
There, between the aspen trees,
O! the dream right dreary is.
With her sweet face turned to me
Low she moaned unto me
That she might forgiven be.
O! my lost love moaned there,
And her low moans in the air
Sleepy startled birds did hear.
O! my dream it makes me weep,
That drear dream I had in sleep
At the thought my pulses leap;
For she lay there moaning low
While the solemn wind did sough
While the clouds did over go.
Then I lifted up her head
And I softly to her said,
Blanche, we twain will soon be dead.
Let us pray that we may die,
Let us pray that we may lie
Where the softening wind does sigh,
That in heaven amid the bliss
Of the blessed where God is
Mid the angels we may kiss;
We may stand with joined hands
Face to face with angel bands:
They too stand with joined hands.
Yea, she said, but kiss me now
Ere my sinning spirit go
To the place no man doth know.

80

There I kissed her as she lay,
O! her spirit passed away;
Mid the flowers her body lay.
What a dream is this of mine:
I am almost like to pine
For this dreary dream of mine.
O dead love, thy hand is here,
O dead Blanche, thy golden hair
Lies along the flowers fair.
I am all aweary love
Of the bright blue sky above,
I will lie beside thee love.
So over them, over them ever
The long, long wind swept on,
And lovingly, lovingly ever
The birds sang on their song.
 

See Life I, 58, where Mr. Mackail suggests some word like “ground” for “leaves.” Another suggestion would be to alter “upon” to “among.”