 | Poems by Elizabeth Akers (Florence Percy) |  |
108
SKELETONS.
Friends, the foot-way is steep and rough,
Harder and wearier day by day,
Dreary, we murmur, and hard enough
E'en could we cast these loads away,—
Terrible burdens, alas! are they.
Harder and wearier day by day,
Dreary, we murmur, and hard enough
E'en could we cast these loads away,—
Terrible burdens, alas! are they.
Skeletons, ghastly and strange and grim,—
How we shrink from each spectral form!
Shadows with sad eyes wet and dim,
Fair young corpses, with lips yet warm,—
These we carry through shine and storm.
How we shrink from each spectral form!
Shadows with sad eyes wet and dim,
Fair young corpses, with lips yet warm,—
These we carry through shine and storm.
Lying down with them, night by night,
Rising up with them, morn by morn,
Bearing their weight through the long daylight,
Facing them still when the stars are born,—
O, how weary and how forlorn!
Rising up with them, morn by morn,
Bearing their weight through the long daylight,
Facing them still when the stars are born,—
O, how weary and how forlorn!
Ah, my neighbor, your face is fair,
Gay and smiling, the whole day through;
Have you no speechless sorrow there?
Are there no ghosts to trouble you?
Do you carry a skeleton, too?
Gay and smiling, the whole day through;
109
Are there no ghosts to trouble you?
Do you carry a skeleton, too?
Softly, softly!—I do not heed
Any innocent lie you tell.
All whose feet on Life's pathway bleed
Carry their terrible loads as well:
Never one can escape the spell.
Any innocent lie you tell.
All whose feet on Life's pathway bleed
Carry their terrible loads as well:
Never one can escape the spell.
Close your eyes,—but you see them still;
Turn your head,—they are there the same;
Fly, they follow, go where you will,—
Haunting faces of grief or blame,
More to be feared than sword or flame.
Turn your head,—they are there the same;
Fly, they follow, go where you will,—
Haunting faces of grief or blame,
More to be feared than sword or flame.
Ghosts of the perished joys of old,
Hopes which once in our hearts abode,
Phantoms of dead loves, stark and cold,
Long since buried on Life's sad road,—
O, a ghastly and fearful load!
Hopes which once in our hearts abode,
Phantoms of dead loves, stark and cold,
Long since buried on Life's sad road,—
O, a ghastly and fearful load!
Those torment us with sharp rebukes,
These still scourge us with dumb complaint;
Others stab us with sad sweet looks
From eyes like those of a martyr-saint,
Fire-refined from all mortal taint.
These still scourge us with dumb complaint;
110
From eyes like those of a martyr-saint,
Fire-refined from all mortal taint.
O dear Christ, who didst bow and bleed
Under the burden laid on Thee,
Hear the prayer of our bitter need;
Though unlightened our loads may be,
Help us to carry them patiently!
Under the burden laid on Thee,
Hear the prayer of our bitter need;
Though unlightened our loads may be,
Help us to carry them patiently!
| Poems by Elizabeth Akers (Florence Percy) | |