 | Western windows and other poems |  |
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THE BURIED RING.
Across the door-step, worn and old,
The new bride, joyous, pass'd to-day;
The gray rooms show'd an artful gold,
All words were light, all faces gay.
The new bride, joyous, pass'd to-day;
The gray rooms show'd an artful gold,
All words were light, all faces gay.
Ah, many years have lived and died
Since she, the other vanish'd one,
Into that door, a timid bride,
Bore from the outer world the sun.
Since she, the other vanish'd one,
Into that door, a timid bride,
Bore from the outer world the sun.
O lily, with the rose's glow!
O rose, the lily's garment clad!—
The rooms were golden long ago,
All words were blithe, all faces glad.
O rose, the lily's garment clad!—
The rooms were golden long ago,
All words were blithe, all faces glad.
She wore upon her hand the ring,
Whose frail and human bond is gone—
A coffin keeps the jealous thing
Radiant in shut oblivion:
Whose frail and human bond is gone—
A coffin keeps the jealous thing
Radiant in shut oblivion:
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For she, (beloved, who loved so well,)
In the last tremors of her breath,
Whisper'd of bands impossible—
“She would not give her ring to Death.”
In the last tremors of her breath,
Whisper'd of bands impossible—
“She would not give her ring to Death.”
But he, who holds a newer face
Close to his breast with eager glow,
Has he forgotten her embrace,
The first shy maiden's, long ago?
Close to his breast with eager glow,
Has he forgotten her embrace,
The first shy maiden's, long ago?
Lo, in a ghostly dream of night,
A vision, over him she stands,
Her mortal face in heavenlier light,
With speechless blame but blessing hands!
A vision, over him she stands,
Her mortal face in heavenlier light,
With speechless blame but blessing hands!
And, smiling mortal sorrow's pain
Into immortal peace more deep,
She gives him back her ring again—
The new bride kisses him from sleep!
Into immortal peace more deep,
She gives him back her ring again—
The new bride kisses him from sleep!
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