 | [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary with introduction and notes |  |
CHANGES.
Under the evening splendor
Of spring's sweet skies,
Learned I love's lesson tender,
From the maiden's eyes.
Of spring's sweet skies,
Learned I love's lesson tender,
From the maiden's eyes.
When the stars, like lovers meeting,
In the blue appeared,
And my heart, tumultuous beating,
Hoped and feared,—
In the blue appeared,
And my heart, tumultuous beating,
Hoped and feared,—
395
Then the passion, long dissembled,
My lip made known,
And the hand of the maiden trembled
In my own,—
My lip made known,
And the hand of the maiden trembled
In my own,—
Till the tears that gushed unbidden,
Unrepressed,
And the crimson blush were hidden
On my breast.
Unrepressed,
And the crimson blush were hidden
On my breast.
And there in that vale elysian,
Through the summer bland,
We walked in a tranced vision,
Hand in hand.
Through the summer bland,
We walked in a tranced vision,
Hand in hand.
There the evening shadows found us
Side by side,
While the glorious roses round us
Bloomed and died.
Side by side,
While the glorious roses round us
Bloomed and died.
And when the bright sun, waning,
Dimly burned,—
When the wind, with sad complaining,
In the valley mourned,—
Dimly burned,—
When the wind, with sad complaining,
In the valley mourned,—
When the bridal roses faded
In her hair,
And her brow was sweetly shaded
With a thought of care,—
In her hair,
And her brow was sweetly shaded
With a thought of care,—
Then with heart still fondly thrilling,
But with calmer bliss,
From the lip no more unwilling
I claimed the kiss.
But with calmer bliss,
From the lip no more unwilling
I claimed the kiss.
Then our dreams, with love o'erladen,
Were verified,
And dearer to me than the maiden
Grew the bride.
Were verified,
And dearer to me than the maiden
Grew the bride.
But when the dead leaves drifted
In that valley low,
And down from the cold sky sifted
The noiseless snow,—
In that valley low,
And down from the cold sky sifted
The noiseless snow,—
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Where the hearts of the faithful moulder
With the dead,
They made her a pillow colder
Than the bridal bed.
With the dead,
They made her a pillow colder
Than the bridal bed.
And there at the spring's returning,
With the summer's glow,
When the autumn sun is burning,
In the winter's snow,—
With the summer's glow,
When the autumn sun is burning,
In the winter's snow,—
With the ghosts of the dim past ever
Gliding round,
Walk I in that vale, as a river
That makes no sound.
Gliding round,
Walk I in that vale, as a river
That makes no sound.
| [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary with introduction and notes | |