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 | The poems and sonnets of Louise Chandler Moulton |  |
137
WHEN DAY WAS DONE.
FOR L. W.
The clouds that watched in the west have fled;
The sun has set and the moon is high;
And nothing is left of the day that is dead
Save a fair white ghost in the eastern sky.
The sun has set and the moon is high;
And nothing is left of the day that is dead
Save a fair white ghost in the eastern sky.
While the day was dying we knelt and yearned,
And hoped and prayed till its last breath died;
But since to a radiant ghost it has turned,
Shall we rest with that white grace satisfied?
And hoped and prayed till its last breath died;
But since to a radiant ghost it has turned,
Shall we rest with that white grace satisfied?
The fair ghost smiles with a pale, cold smile,
As mocking as life and as hopeless as death—
Shall passionless beauty like this beguile?
Who loves a ghost without feeling or breath?
As mocking as life and as hopeless as death—
Shall passionless beauty like this beguile?
Who loves a ghost without feeling or breath?
I remember a maiden as fair to see,
Who once was alive, with a heart like June;
She died, but her spirit wanders free,
And charms men's souls to the old mad tune.
Who once was alive, with a heart like June;
She died, but her spirit wanders free,
And charms men's souls to the old mad tune.
Warm she was, in her life's glad day,—
Warm and fair, and faithful and sweet;
A man might have thrown a kingdom away
To kneel and love at her girlish feet.
Warm and fair, and faithful and sweet;
A man might have thrown a kingdom away
To kneel and love at her girlish feet.
138
But the night came down, and her day was done;
Hoping and dreaming were over for aye;
And then her career as a ghost was begun—
Cold she shone, like the moon on high.
Hoping and dreaming were over for aye;
And then her career as a ghost was begun—
Cold she shone, like the moon on high.
For maiden or moon shall a live man yearn?
Shall a breathing man love a ghost without breath?
Shine, moon, and chill us, you cannot burn;
Go home, Girl-Ghost, to your kingdom of death.
Shall a breathing man love a ghost without breath?
Shine, moon, and chill us, you cannot burn;
Go home, Girl-Ghost, to your kingdom of death.
| The poems and sonnets of Louise Chandler Moulton | |