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A FAREWELL TO A HAPPY DAY. |
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 | Poems by Frances Sargent Osgood |  |
111
A FAREWELL TO A HAPPY DAY.
Good-bye, good-bye, thou gracious, golden day:
Through luminous tears thou smilest, far away
In the blue heaven, thy sweet farewell to me,
And I, through my tears, gaze and smile with thee.
Through luminous tears thou smilest, far away
In the blue heaven, thy sweet farewell to me,
And I, through my tears, gaze and smile with thee.
I see the last faint, glowing amber gleam
Of thy rich pinion, like a lovely dream,
Whose floating glory melts within the sky,
And now thou'rt pass'd for ever from mine eye!
Of thy rich pinion, like a lovely dream,
Whose floating glory melts within the sky,
And now thou'rt pass'd for ever from mine eye!
Were we not friends—best friends—my cherish'd day?
Did I not treasure every eloquent ray
Of golden light and love thou gavest me?
And have I not been true—most true to thee?
Did I not treasure every eloquent ray
Of golden light and love thou gavest me?
And have I not been true—most true to thee?
And thou—thou camést like a joyous bird,
Whose sacred wings by heaven's own air were stirr'd,
And lowly sang me all the happy time
Dear, soothing stories of that blissful clime!
Whose sacred wings by heaven's own air were stirr'd,
And lowly sang me all the happy time
Dear, soothing stories of that blissful clime!
112
And more, oh! more than this, there came with thee,
From heaven, a stranger, rare and bright to me—
A new, sweet joy—a smiling angel guest,
That softly ask'd a home within my breast.
From heaven, a stranger, rare and bright to me—
A new, sweet joy—a smiling angel guest,
That softly ask'd a home within my breast.
For talking sadly with my soul alone,
I heard far off and faint a music tone:
It seem'd a spirit's call—so soft it stole
On fairy wings into my waiting soul.
I heard far off and faint a music tone:
It seem'd a spirit's call—so soft it stole
On fairy wings into my waiting soul.
I knew it summon'd me to something sweet,
And so I follow'd it with faltering feet—
And found—what I had pray'd for with wild tears—
A rest, that soothed the lingering grief of years!
And so I follow'd it with faltering feet—
And found—what I had pray'd for with wild tears—
A rest, that soothed the lingering grief of years!
So for that deep, perpetual joy, my day!
And for all lovely things that came to play
In thy glad smile—the pure and pleading flowers
That crown'd with their frail bloom thy flying hours:
And for all lovely things that came to play
In thy glad smile—the pure and pleading flowers
That crown'd with their frail bloom thy flying hours:
The sunlit clouds—the pleasant air that play'd
Its low lute-music mid the leafy shade—
And, dearer far, the tenderness that taught
My soul a new and richer thrill of thought:
Its low lute-music mid the leafy shade—
And, dearer far, the tenderness that taught
My soul a new and richer thrill of thought:
113
For these—for all—bear thou to heaven for me
The grateful thanks with which I mission thee!
Then should thy sisters, wasted, wrong'd, upbraid,
Speak thou for me—for thou wert not betray'd!
The grateful thanks with which I mission thee!
Then should thy sisters, wasted, wrong'd, upbraid,
Speak thou for me—for thou wert not betray'd!
'Twas little, true, I could to thee impart—
I, with my simple, frail, and wayward heart;
But that I strove the diamond sands to light,
In Life's rich hour-glass, with Love's rainbow flight:
I, with my simple, frail, and wayward heart;
But that I strove the diamond sands to light,
In Life's rich hour-glass, with Love's rainbow flight:
And that one generous spirit owed to me
A moment of exulting ecstasy;
And that I won o'er wrong a queenly sway—
For this, thou'lt smile for me in heaven, my Day!
A moment of exulting ecstasy;
And that I won o'er wrong a queenly sway—
For this, thou'lt smile for me in heaven, my Day!
| Poems by Frances Sargent Osgood | |