 | A collection of poems by Ernest Radford |  |
65
TWO VOICES.
Sweet, on thy lips a smile there played;
A surface ripple that betrayed
A thrill of feeling moving me
To ask of what thy dreams may be?
The lamp within thy heart is lit,
The angels they have charge of it,
What would the sleeper know?
A surface ripple that betrayed
A thrill of feeling moving me
To ask of what thy dreams may be?
The lamp within thy heart is lit,
The angels they have charge of it,
What would the sleeper know?
Through ‘mail and vizor glimmering,’
The wrath of one like Ivanhoe,
Comes he of whom the poets sing,
‘Red-hot, undying love’ to show.
As silent as the gravestones are,
And black from top to toe,
Is he now ‘daring Death’ for me;
‘Prevailing o'er the Foe’?
Sleep, sleep, my child, the hours beguile
With wand'ring thought and wistful smile,
Let visions come and go.
The wrath of one like Ivanhoe,
Comes he of whom the poets sing,
‘Red-hot, undying love’ to show.
As silent as the gravestones are,
And black from top to toe,
Is he now ‘daring Death’ for me;
‘Prevailing o'er the Foe’?
Sleep, sleep, my child, the hours beguile
With wand'ring thought and wistful smile,
Let visions come and go.
As brave as any knight of old,
With braver stories to be told;
Is he now ‘speeding o'er the sea’
By day-dawn at my side to be?
Sleep, sleep, my child, the hours beguile
With wand'ring thought and wistful smile,
Let visions come and go.
With braver stories to be told;
Is he now ‘speeding o'er the sea’
By day-dawn at my side to be?
Sleep, sleep, my child, the hours beguile
With wand'ring thought and wistful smile,
Let visions come and go.
66
When his ‘great hands are holding mine,’
I quote the poets whom I skim;
Will there be ‘rivulets of wine’
In all my veins? Will ‘silence take
The place of speech,’ and gladness make
Me crazy when I welcome him?
Sleep, sleep, my child, the hours beguile
With wand'ring thought and wistful smile,
Let visions come and go.
I quote the poets whom I skim;
Will there be ‘rivulets of wine’
In all my veins? Will ‘silence take
The place of speech,’ and gladness make
Me crazy when I welcome him?
Sleep, sleep, my child, the hours beguile
With wand'ring thought and wistful smile,
Let visions come and go.
When I have looked him up and down,
Provoked his smile, and smoothed his frown,
Oh, shall I dare to throw
Myself into his arms—and kiss
Like this, like this, like this, like this,
Because—I—love—him—so—
The one whose life and strength will be
His ‘great resplendent gift’ to me:—
I want—I want—to know?
Sleep, sleep, my child, the hours beguile
With wand'ring thought and wistful smile,
Let visions come and go.
Provoked his smile, and smoothed his frown,
Oh, shall I dare to throw
Myself into his arms—and kiss
Like this, like this, like this, like this,
Because—I—love—him—so—
The one whose life and strength will be
His ‘great resplendent gift’ to me:—
I want—I want—to know?
Sleep, sleep, my child, the hours beguile
With wand'ring thought and wistful smile,
Let visions come and go.
Hand seeketh hand; there lies a vast,
The sage has said, between
The seeker and the sought, and this
Is what has ever been.
The sage has said, between
The seeker and the sought, and this
Is what has ever been.
| A collection of poems by Ernest Radford | |