 | Poems by Elizabeth Akers (Florence Percy) |  |
119
BONDS.
The Winter gathers up the folds
Of his torn robe from hills and wolds,
New life breathes over vale and plain,
And dead hearts come to life again,—
But O, these bonds!
Of his torn robe from hills and wolds,
New life breathes over vale and plain,
And dead hearts come to life again,—
But O, these bonds!
Wild March forbears his boisterous ways,
And whispers to the listening days
A promise of the coming June;
And life would be a precious boon,—
Except these bonds!
And whispers to the listening days
A promise of the coming June;
And life would be a precious boon,—
Except these bonds!
A robin sings on yonder limb,
Amid the buds, a triumph hymn;
And I could almost hear the bees
Busy among the apple-trees,
But for these bonds!
Amid the buds, a triumph hymn;
And I could almost hear the bees
Busy among the apple-trees,
But for these bonds!
My soul could catch spring's vital breath,
Could break this icy trance of death,
As trees come out in fresher life
After the winter's woe and strife,—
Except these bonds.
Could break this icy trance of death,
120
After the winter's woe and strife,—
Except these bonds.
O friend! how fair, in sun and dew,
The flowers would bloom the long year through,
But for the cruel winter-time!
I, too, were in my blossom-prime,
But for these bonds!
The flowers would bloom the long year through,
But for the cruel winter-time!
I, too, were in my blossom-prime,
But for these bonds!
Each soul must have its strife with fate;
Tell me, which is the sadder state,
To fly, and fly, and find no rest,
Or dream away a life, oppressed
But by these bonds?
Tell me, which is the sadder state,
To fly, and fly, and find no rest,
Or dream away a life, oppressed
But by these bonds?
| Poems by Elizabeth Akers (Florence Percy) | |