The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury

She had sprung up like a sweet wild flower, hid
From common eyes, in some lone dell, amid
The light and dews of heaven; and ne'er was found
A purer bud on earth's unhallowed ground.
Her face was fair, but the admiring eye
Loved less its beauty than its purity;
No cloud e'er darkened o'er that placid brow;
No care e'er dimmed her bright smile's sunny glow;
A gentle heart that ne'er had dreamed of sin
Or suffering, shone her dove-like eyes within;
And the high hope that with such calm joy stirs
The trusting soul—the Christian's hope—was hers:
'Twas this that gave such sweetness to a mien
So softly gay, so peaceful and serene;
Calm without apathy, as woman mild,
Yet innocent and playful as a child.

But in her heart there was one unbreathed thought
With all a woman's holiest fondness fraught.
Here was not wild, fierce passion, such as glows
In untamed hearts, but the calm love that grows
Within the soul like an expanding flower,
Breathing its perfume o'er each passing hour:
From infancy it grew. The graceful boy
To whose embrace she clung with childish joy,

And on whose breast her head had oft reposed
When weariness her infant eyes had closed,
Was still as dear to her young bosom now,
Though time had written man upon his brow.
There was no shame in such a love concealed
In her heart's quiet depths, or but revealed
By the slight tremor or the blush that came
O'er cheek and bosom when she heard his name

And did not Henry look with loving eyes
On the fair orphan who so tenderly
Cherished his image? Long he vainly strove
To check the feeling he dared not call love;
He thought of earlier days when she had smiled
In his encircling arms, a reckless child;
Could she forget the difference in their years
And listen to a lover's hopes and fears
From one so much her elder? He might claim
A sister's tenderness; but the pure flame
Of deep and deathless love could never be
Kindled by him in its intensity.
Thus deemed he in his hopelessness; but vain
His efforts to repress the thrilling pain
That filled his heart, while thinking of the hour
When he should see his loved and cherished flower
Breathing its fragrance in another's bower.

One balmy summer eve, with him she roved
Through many a greenwood haunt they long had loved;
When as they gazed upon the glorious west,
Dark clouds obscured the bright sun's glowing crest;

And through the forest trees the wind's wild cry
Rang as of some strong man in agony.
A storm was coming, and, while pale with fear,
She clung to him, his own proud castle near
Offered them shelter; in his arms he bore
The maiden to those halls oft trod before
In childhood's day; and while the tempest's strife
Blackened the scene so late with gladness rife,
His heart was filled with joy; for maiden pride
Was hushed by fear, and Clara dared to hide
Her face upon his breast, while the red fire
Flashed from dark clouds careering in their ire
Like angry spirits; ere an hour had past,
The storm was spent, and its terrific blast
Hushed into stillness; but before they turned
To leave the spot, the restless thoughts that burned
In Henry's breast were breathed o'er Clara's cheek,
And silence answered more than words could speak.

And they were wed. O, gentle Love, how dear
Is thy sweet influence when thou dost rear
Amid our household gods thy sacred shrine,
And givest thy torch upon our hearths to shine,
Folding in calm repose thy radiant wings,
And gathering round our homes earth's purest, loveliest things!

University of Virginia Library

CLARA.