 | Poems Real and Ideal |  |
216
TWO SONNETS.
I. TO-NIGHT.
To-night I claim thee, lady—claim thy soul.
Give all thou canst with lavish hands away,
All that I covet, suffer for, will stay—
Far, far it is even out of thy control.
Now on the closing of thy marriage-day
As it were, I come to thee, and would unveil
With tender solemn speed thy beauty pale,
And gaze deep in thine eyes of marvellous grey.
Give all thou canst with lavish hands away,
All that I covet, suffer for, will stay—
Far, far it is even out of thy control.
Now on the closing of thy marriage-day
As it were, I come to thee, and would unveil
With tender solemn speed thy beauty pale,
And gaze deep in thine eyes of marvellous grey.
Deep, deep, and ever deeper I would gaze,
Till on this evening of thy day of days
I draw thee forth, as from his very embrace:
Yea, strenuous arms of his shall tremble, and part,
Till, heeding not the prison where thou art,
I weeping, kiss thee on the weeping face.
Till on this evening of thy day of days
I draw thee forth, as from his very embrace:
Yea, strenuous arms of his shall tremble, and part,
Till, heeding not the prison where thou art,
I weeping, kiss thee on the weeping face.
April 27, 1876.
232
II. ALONE.
Yea, next, my love shall come to me alone,
Dividing herself from all friends and kin:
So passion's supreme pleasure we shall win,
And watch God, without trembling, on his throne.
Then shalt thou be, my lady sweet, mine own;—
Then all the fierce sad seasons that have been,
Heavy with sorrow, dark or red with sin,
Shall vanish, like pale mists to nightward blown.
Dividing herself from all friends and kin:
So passion's supreme pleasure we shall win,
And watch God, without trembling, on his throne.
Then shalt thou be, my lady sweet, mine own;—
Then all the fierce sad seasons that have been,
Heavy with sorrow, dark or red with sin,
Shall vanish, like pale mists to nightward blown.
All these, thy friends of youth, thou shalt forsake,—
Husband and home, and mother,—and shalt take
Thine own sweet soul, that only, in thine hand:—
This shalt thou in the far sure future do;
Ages may pass-yet God's word shall come true;
One day thou shalt arise at Love's command.
Husband and home, and mother,—and shalt take
Thine own sweet soul, that only, in thine hand:—
This shalt thou in the far sure future do;
Ages may pass-yet God's word shall come true;
One day thou shalt arise at Love's command.
April 27, 1876.
| Poems Real and Ideal | |