 | [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
ABJURATION.
Haunting phantom, I abjure thee!
Thou shalt never vex me more;
Though the past was sweet as summer,
Better far to look before.
Thou shalt never vex me more;
Though the past was sweet as summer,
Better far to look before.
102
Who would sit in memory's chambers,
Mantled from the loving light,
With the sea of life before them,
Broad, and beautiful, and bright?
Mantled from the loving light,
With the sea of life before them,
Broad, and beautiful, and bright?
Wherefore in the port of sorrow
Should our moorings longer be?
Helmsman, ho! heave up the anchor!
Now, my messmates, for the sea!
Should our moorings longer be?
Helmsman, ho! heave up the anchor!
Now, my messmates, for the sea!
Up, my chamois-footed reefer!
Let the canvas be unfurled—
Moth will fret away the garment
Faster than the wearing world!
Let the canvas be unfurled—
Moth will fret away the garment
Faster than the wearing world!
Though our bark is not too steady,
And our compass sometimes errs,
Never let the sail be slackened—
Storms make skilful mariners:
And our compass sometimes errs,
Never let the sail be slackened—
Storms make skilful mariners:
True, beneath these waves of beauty,
Far from wind and tempest-frown
When the sky was full of sunshine
Many vessels have gone down.
Far from wind and tempest-frown
When the sky was full of sunshine
Many vessels have gone down.
Happiness is not in wooing
Phantoms to the vacant breast;
But in earnest, healthful striving
And in blessing we are blest.
Phantoms to the vacant breast;
But in earnest, healthful striving
And in blessing we are blest.
Are we ready? are we freighted?
Not with odors, not with gold;
But with bright hopes for the future—
With true hearts and courage bold!
Not with odors, not with gold;
But with bright hopes for the future—
With true hearts and courage bold!
Downward from the shore of sorrow
Fresh the seaward breezes spring;
And our flag is up and waving,
Like some proud bird's open wing.
Fresh the seaward breezes spring;
And our flag is up and waving,
Like some proud bird's open wing.
When the showers of evening crimson
Fall like roses on the sea;
Rocking o'er the glad, free billows,
Oh, how sweet my dreams will be!
Fall like roses on the sea;
Rocking o'er the glad, free billows,
Oh, how sweet my dreams will be!
| [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |