 | [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
A LOCK OF HAIR.
Three times the zephyr's whisper,
And the soft sunlit showers,
Have called up from their slumber
The early spring-time flowers,—
And the soft sunlit showers,
Have called up from their slumber
The early spring-time flowers,—
Three times the Summer wild-birds
Have built among the trees,
And gone with the dull Autumn
Three times across the seas,—
Have built among the trees,
And gone with the dull Autumn
Three times across the seas,—
Since this bright lock was severed
In the hopelessness of bliss:
O, there's a world of eloquence
In simple things like this!
In the hopelessness of bliss:
O, there's a world of eloquence
In simple things like this!
86
What a tumult of strange feelings
It wakes within my brain;
Half joyous and half sorrowful—
Half rapture, half of pain.
It wakes within my brain;
Half joyous and half sorrowful—
Half rapture, half of pain.
One moment I am dreaming
Love's broken chain is whole,
And echoes of lost music
Are trembling in my soul.
Love's broken chain is whole,
And echoes of lost music
Are trembling in my soul.
Another, and I'm sitting
Where the lights of memory burn,
And thinking of the summer-times
That never can return.
Where the lights of memory burn,
And thinking of the summer-times
That never can return.
Oft in the solemn watches
Of the long and weary night,
No link beside has bound me
To the morning and the light.
Of the long and weary night,
No link beside has bound me
To the morning and the light.
'T is strange my heart will vibrate
From gladness to despair,
Whenever I am thinking of
This simple tress of hair.
From gladness to despair,
Whenever I am thinking of
This simple tress of hair.
| [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |