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| AFTER READING IN INGRAM'S MONOGRAPH
ON OLIVER MADOX BROWN
THE CHAPTER ENTITLED “FRIENDSHIP.” |
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 | The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston |  |
AFTER READING IN INGRAM'S MONOGRAPH ON OLIVER MADOX BROWN THE CHAPTER ENTITLED “FRIENDSHIP.”
I.
Walking my way, with face to sorrow set,
A voice, most like the wind's voice when it says
Some grieving word within a pine-thronged place
Spake low to me; and turning round, I met
The eyes my spirit never may forget,
Then for long time unseen; and down the ways
A spectral band, the ghosts of my old days,
Came to me sighing, “Ah, not forgotten yet!”
A voice, most like the wind's voice when it says
Some grieving word within a pine-thronged place
Spake low to me; and turning round, I met
The eyes my spirit never may forget,
Then for long time unseen; and down the ways
A spectral band, the ghosts of my old days,
Came to me sighing, “Ah, not forgotten yet!”
289
And some looked sad, and some were garlanded
With flowers that long ago made fair the land;
And in the midst there came, hand clasped in hand,
My friend, and those to whom my life was wed.
“But ah, what shape,” I cried, “now heads the band?”
“What shape but thine old self?” the wind's voice said.
With flowers that long ago made fair the land;
And in the midst there came, hand clasped in hand,
My friend, and those to whom my life was wed.
“But ah, what shape,” I cried, “now heads the band?”
“What shape but thine old self?” the wind's voice said.
II.
And did it really live, that far-off day,
That day in March, so memorably sweet,
When to the country went our hastening feet,
And small spring flowers made blithe the country way,
And birds sang to us of the coming May;
And in the soft, blue air, with song replete,
We felt glad presage of the longed-for heat,
When summer should be come in brave array?
That day in March, so memorably sweet,
When to the country went our hastening feet,
And small spring flowers made blithe the country way,
And birds sang to us of the coming May;
And in the soft, blue air, with song replete,
We felt glad presage of the longed-for heat,
When summer should be come in brave array?
Now only one of us can ever go
To give Spring welcome where skies show more clear,
When birds attest the glad youth of the year;
And grief is not quite unassuaged, while so,
On winds that, whispering, wander to and fro,
Spring's inner message the hushed heart can hear.
To give Spring welcome where skies show more clear,
When birds attest the glad youth of the year;
And grief is not quite unassuaged, while so,
On winds that, whispering, wander to and fro,
Spring's inner message the hushed heart can hear.
| The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | |