 | The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston |  |
52
TO A CHILD.
I kiss you, dear, and very sweet is this,
To feel you are not tainted by my kiss;
Cling with your warm soft arms about me so,
Give me one small sweet kiss and murmur low,
In speech as sweet as broken music is.
To feel you are not tainted by my kiss;
Cling with your warm soft arms about me so,
Give me one small sweet kiss and murmur low,
In speech as sweet as broken music is.
How long shall God my Lily darling give
Untainted by the shrieking world to live? —
I cannot tell; but this my wish shall be,
Longer at least than God has given me.
Ah, sweet, be glad; as yet, you need not grieve.
Untainted by the shrieking world to live? —
I cannot tell; but this my wish shall be,
Longer at least than God has given me.
Ah, sweet, be glad; as yet, you need not grieve.
There, see, I put the hair back from your face,
And if my lips in kissing should displace
Your sunny hair, you will but laugh, my child, —
A babbling silver laugh and undefiled:
God keep it so, through the all-ruling days.
And if my lips in kissing should displace
Your sunny hair, you will but laugh, my child, —
A babbling silver laugh and undefiled:
God keep it so, through the all-ruling days.
But, I, who in the darkness sit alone,
With heart that, once rebellious, now has grown
Too weak to strive with foes that smite unseen,
Will only ask you once your head to lean
Upon this heart which grief has made his throne.
With heart that, once rebellious, now has grown
Too weak to strive with foes that smite unseen,
Will only ask you once your head to lean
Upon this heart which grief has made his throne.
I will not tell you of the things I know;
I cannot bar the path that you must go;
God's bitter lesson must be learnt by all;
But, living, I will listen to your call,
And stretch to you a hand that you may know.
I cannot bar the path that you must go;
God's bitter lesson must be learnt by all;
But, living, I will listen to your call,
And stretch to you a hand that you may know.
You feel the wind against you as you run,
And love its strength, and revel in the sun.
So once did I, and but for this last blow,
Of which none other knows, so might I now;
But now for me the light of life is done.
And love its strength, and revel in the sun.
So once did I, and but for this last blow,
Of which none other knows, so might I now;
But now for me the light of life is done.
53
These little hands that lose themselves in mine,
May some day haply in a man's hair twine,
While 'neath their touch his heart shall palpitate;
Then will your soul with triumph be elate,
And mix sharp poison in a maddening wine?
May some day haply in a man's hair twine,
While 'neath their touch his heart shall palpitate;
Then will your soul with triumph be elate,
And mix sharp poison in a maddening wine?
But see you keep your lips from tasting sweet;
For it begets within us such a heat
As cooling waters never can allay.
We see, through mists of blood and tears, the day,
Until we sicken for the nightfall's feet.
For it begets within us such a heat
As cooling waters never can allay.
We see, through mists of blood and tears, the day,
Until we sicken for the nightfall's feet.
There, there, you 're weary, and I let you go;
But this kiss, softer than a flake of snow,
I will remember when alone I stand.
I wonder will you ever understand
The reason why I loved and kissed you so.
But this kiss, softer than a flake of snow,
I will remember when alone I stand.
I wonder will you ever understand
The reason why I loved and kissed you so.
| The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | |