 | Last poems including Afterglow and Beyond the sunset |  |
151
A FAR CRY
'Tis a far cry to youth, O my soul,
'Tis a far cry to youth!
Though the years have flown onward unheeding,
Through gladness and travail and ruth,
'Tis a far cry to youth, O my soul,
'Tis a far cry to youth!
'Tis a far cry to youth!
Though the years have flown onward unheeding,
Through gladness and travail and ruth,
'Tis a far cry to youth, O my soul,
'Tis a far cry to youth!
Wert thou I, O thou fair child-maiden,
Who, ages and ages ago,
Looked forth from the curve of yon mirror,
Impatient life's meaning to know;
To taste the red wine of its vintage,
Its splendor, its rapture, its glow?
Who, ages and ages ago,
Looked forth from the curve of yon mirror,
Impatient life's meaning to know;
To taste the red wine of its vintage,
Its splendor, its rapture, its glow?
152
Thou hadst eyes like the pale stars of morning,
Just tinged with the blue of the skies;
Thy hair had the darkness of midnight,
When the wraiths of the tempest arise,
And thy cheeks wore the flush of soft carmine
In the heart of the wild rose that lies.
Just tinged with the blue of the skies;
Thy hair had the darkness of midnight,
When the wraiths of the tempest arise,
And thy cheeks wore the flush of soft carmine
In the heart of the wild rose that lies.
So young thou wert, child—so unwary!—
Yet so eager to learn and to do,
That the days were too short for thy living,
As on in their courses they flew,
And thy light feet kept time to earth's music,
Whether treading on heart's-ease or rue!
Yet so eager to learn and to do,
That the days were too short for thy living,
As on in their courses they flew,
And thy light feet kept time to earth's music,
Whether treading on heart's-ease or rue!
O, the magical glamour of moonlight,
When love was a fairy dream;
When romance, with its tremulous splendor,
Gilded all life with its gleam;
When the heart knew one song and one story—
One lofty, bewildering theme!
When love was a fairy dream;
When romance, with its tremulous splendor,
Gilded all life with its gleam;
When the heart knew one song and one story—
One lofty, bewildering theme!
153
When friendship was quick recognition
Springing to life in a day;
When heroes wore crowns of laurels,
And poets wore wreaths of bay;
When faith knew the joy of believing
In Omnipotent Good alway!
Springing to life in a day;
When heroes wore crowns of laurels,
And poets wore wreaths of bay;
When faith knew the joy of believing
In Omnipotent Good alway!
Speak, child, for the years are many,
And the past lies dim between,
And I fain would read the riddle
Of what thine eyes have seen—
Thou mystic, silent wonder,
Thou ghost of the might have been!
And the past lies dim between,
And I fain would read the riddle
Of what thine eyes have seen—
Thou mystic, silent wonder,
Thou ghost of the might have been!
Didst thou know when the morning-glory
First sheathed its silver horn;
When the roses drooped in the noontide,
Of their early freshness shorn;
And the wild birds ceased from singing
In the heart of the woods forlorn?
First sheathed its silver horn;
When the roses drooped in the noontide,
Of their early freshness shorn;
And the wild birds ceased from singing
In the heart of the woods forlorn?
154
Oh, speak! Didst thou know when the shadow
That woman dreads drew nigh;
When the young bloom slowly faded,
And the young light left thine eye,
And there fell a shower of snowflakes
Where the dark locks used to lie?
That woman dreads drew nigh;
When the young bloom slowly faded,
And the young light left thine eye,
And there fell a shower of snowflakes
Where the dark locks used to lie?
Ah, maiden! the white-haired woman
Is but thyself grown older;
She hath lost some dear illusions,
Yet remembereth all you told her,
And still your dreams and visions
In the might of their love enfold her.
Is but thyself grown older;
She hath lost some dear illusions,
Yet remembereth all you told her,
And still your dreams and visions
In the might of their love enfold her.
For she knows what you but dreamed of;
She hath drained the beaker of life;
She hath trodden its red-hot ploughshares;
She hath faced its storm and strife;
She hath heard its divinest music,
And danced to its lute and fife!
She hath drained the beaker of life;
She hath trodden its red-hot ploughshares;
She hath faced its storm and strife;
She hath heard its divinest music,
And danced to its lute and fife!
155
O child, it is long since we parted!
But surely in some far clime
We shall meet with tears and laughter
Beyond the river of Time,
And each in the clasp of the other
Pass on to the Hills Sublime!
But surely in some far clime
We shall meet with tears and laughter
Beyond the river of Time,
And each in the clasp of the other
Pass on to the Hills Sublime!
| Last poems including Afterglow and Beyond the sunset | |