 | [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
LEILA.
Gone from us hast thou, in thy girlish hours,
What time the tenderest blooms of summer cease;
In thy young bosom bearing life's pale flowers
To the sweet city of eternal peace.
What time the tenderest blooms of summer cease;
In thy young bosom bearing life's pale flowers
To the sweet city of eternal peace.
In the soft stops of silver singing rain,
Faint be the falling of the pale-rose light
O'er thy meek slumber, wrapt away from pain
In the fair robes of dainty bridal white.
Faint be the falling of the pale-rose light
O'er thy meek slumber, wrapt away from pain
In the fair robes of dainty bridal white.
Seven nights the stars have wandered through the blue,
Since thou to larger, holier life wert born;
And day as often, sandalled with gray dew,
Has trodden out the golden fires of morn.
Since thou to larger, holier life wert born;
And day as often, sandalled with gray dew,
Has trodden out the golden fires of morn.
Oft, ere the dim waves of the sea of woe
Clasp the green shore of immortality,
Life, like a planet cursed, lays down its glow
And blindly wanders o'er immensity.
Clasp the green shore of immortality,
Life, like a planet cursed, lays down its glow
And blindly wanders o'er immensity.
And, from thy starless passage and untried,
Faith shrank alarmed at feeble nature's cry,
Ere yet life's broken waves had multiplied
The intense radiance of eternity.
Faith shrank alarmed at feeble nature's cry,
Ere yet life's broken waves had multiplied
The intense radiance of eternity.
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But now, on every sunbeam leaning bright
Across the white mists, trembling o'er the sea,
My soul goes forth, as on a path of light,
Questioning all things beautiful of thee.
Across the white mists, trembling o'er the sea,
My soul goes forth, as on a path of light,
Questioning all things beautiful of thee.
Nor shall distrust or doubt my spirit move,
Doomed though it be the seal of woe to wear;
Since the blest memory of deathless love
Stands like a star between me and despair.
Doomed though it be the seal of woe to wear;
Since the blest memory of deathless love
Stands like a star between me and despair.
| [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |