 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
GUYANDOTTE MUSINGS.
I.
Beneath this leafy maple
No sunbeam droppeth down;
Yet light surrounds my spirit,
Here in the shadows brown—
Delight and love hold torches
To light the shadows brown.
No sunbeam droppeth down;
Yet light surrounds my spirit,
Here in the shadows brown—
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To light the shadows brown.
My dear wife sits beside me,
Her hand is in my own;
I see her downcast lashes,
I hear her voice's tone—
The distant bells of silver
Have not so sweet a tone.
Her hand is in my own;
I see her downcast lashes,
I hear her voice's tone—
The distant bells of silver
Have not so sweet a tone.
Our Alice sings a ditty,
And wots not that we hear;
Sad Mary hears the fancies
That whisper in her ear—
She sits and hears the stories
They whisper in her ear.
And wots not that we hear;
Sad Mary hears the fancies
That whisper in her ear—
She sits and hears the stories
They whisper in her ear.
Sage Annie watches Alice,
For fear of some mishap;
Little Florence is cooing and smiling
Upon her mother's lap—
Her closed hand in her baby mouth,
And she on her mother's lap.
For fear of some mishap;
Little Florence is cooing and smiling
Upon her mother's lap—
Her closed hand in her baby mouth,
And she on her mother's lap.
Still darker grow the shadows
That drip from every limb;
They wrap me in their folding,
The outer sense grows dim;—
But the light within grows brighter,
Though all without be dim.
That drip from every limb;
They wrap me in their folding,
The outer sense grows dim;—
But the light within grows brighter,
Though all without be dim.
My thought is vague and dreamy,
And misty pictures pass;
The hues are tangled together
At every turn of the glass—
Blue, scarlet, green and golden,
Whenever I turn the glass.
And misty pictures pass;
The hues are tangled together
At every turn of the glass—
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Whenever I turn the glass.
II.
I raise my eyes—all passes;
And yonder “Backbone” stands,
With coat of grey and cap of green,
To watch the lower lands—
With coronet of oak trees
To guard the lower lands.
And yonder “Backbone” stands,
With coat of grey and cap of green,
To watch the lower lands—
With coronet of oak trees
To guard the lower lands.
And all my pleasant musings
Are idle ones to-day;
My home, my wife, my children,
Are many miles away—
I linger here no longer—
To saddle and away.
Are idle ones to-day;
My home, my wife, my children,
Are many miles away—
I linger here no longer—
To saddle and away.
III.
My feet are in the stirrups,
The reins my fingers press;
My mare, with black mane flowing,
Neighs loud at my caress—
With nostrils wide distended,
She neighs at my caress.
The reins my fingers press;
My mare, with black mane flowing,
Neighs loud at my caress—
With nostrils wide distended,
She neighs at my caress.
Faster, black mare of the mountains,
Rival the wind in thy speed;
They are watching at home for the master,
They listen the tramp of his steed—
A welcome waits the master,
A stable waits the steed.
Rival the wind in thy speed;
They are watching at home for the master,
They listen the tramp of his steed—
A welcome waits the master,
A stable waits the steed.
The fond, ideal picture
That met my spirit's gaze,
Shall soon be true and real
Beside the hearth-fire blaze—
And ardent be the welcome
Beside the hearth-fire blaze.
That met my spirit's gaze,
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Beside the hearth-fire blaze—
And ardent be the welcome
Beside the hearth-fire blaze.
And thou, my good companion,
Shalt share this joy of mine;
Annie shall bring thee white cake,
And Mary bring thee wine—
And thou shalt eat the wheat loaf,
And drink the draught of wine.
Shalt share this joy of mine;
Annie shall bring thee white cake,
And Mary bring thee wine—
And thou shalt eat the wheat loaf,
And drink the draught of wine.
Fresh oats shall fill thy manger,
Sweet hay thy couch shall be;
And all because of my musings
Beneath the maple tree—
The maple on Guyandotte river,
Where thou didst wait for me.
Sweet hay thy couch shall be;
And all because of my musings
Beneath the maple tree—
The maple on Guyandotte river,
Where thou didst wait for me.
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |