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Poems by Elizabeth Akers (Florence Percy)

Allen, Elizabeth Akers (1832-1911)

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VIOLET-PLANTING.
 
SNOW.
 
NOVEMBER.
 
AMONG THE LAURELS.
 
IN ILLNESS.
 
MY SOLDIER.
 
TRUE.
 
BROKEN FAITH.
 
IN WASHINGTON.
 
TIME.
 
BABYHOOD.
 
GOING TO SLEEP.
 
LEFT BEHIND.
 
THE DREAM,
 
ENDURANCE.
 
THE SPARROW AT SEA.
 
WHITE HEAD.
 
LOVED TOO LATE.
 
SINGING IN THE RAIN.
 
THEN.
 
AN AUTUMN VIOLET.
 
THE MOUNTAINS.
 
A SPRING LOVE-SONG.
 
THE AMBER ROSARY.
 
OUR SOLDIERS.
 
GOOD BY.
 
FORESHADOWING.
 
THE CLAY-CHILD.
 
LOST LIGHT.
 
THE CITY OF THE LIVING.
 
OCTOBER.
 
AT LAST.
 
LITTLE LOSSES.
 
LAST.
 
THISTLES.
 
GERTRUDIE.
 
FORGOTTEN.
 
WATER-LILIES.
 
IN AN ATTIC.
 
CASTLES IN SPAIN.
 
OCTOBER TO MAY.
 
EVENING.
 
PROPHECY.
 
SKELETONS.
 
A FANTASY.
 
ROTHERMEL'S WILLOW.
 
“MY DEARLING.”
 
BONDS.
 
MY PEACE.
 
CHRISTMAS CAROLS.
 
THE VISION OF VIOLETS.
 
THE NEW TEMPLE.
 
WERTER TO CHARLOTTE.
 
RESTLESSNESS.
 
BELLA.
 
APRIL RAIN.
 
CONSOLATION.
 
WHEN THE LEAVES ARE TURNING BROWN.
 
THE SINGER.
 
AUTUMN RAIN.
 
OUT AT SEA.
 
A BRIDE.
 
CHRYSANTHEMUMS.
 
A DREAM.
 
CITY SMOKE.
 
IN VAIN.
 
SEA-BIRDS.
 
THE CHAMBER OF REST.
 
WHERE THE ROSES GREW.
 
LITTLE NANNIE.
 
WHOM THE LORD LOVETH.
 
SLEEP.
 
ANSWER ME.
 
CRADLE-TIME.
 
KISSES.
 
APRIL SNOW.
 
VOYAGING.
 
BELIEVE IN ME.
 
ROCK ME TO SLEEP.
 
MARCH.
 
SPRING AT THE CAPITAL.
 
“BLESSED DREAMS.”
 
TWO SUMMERS.
 
THE RETURN OF THE REGIMENT.
 
AN OLD PORTRAIT.
 
KARL.
 
A POTOMAC PICTURE.
 
AWAY FROM HOME.
 
THINE.
 
THE WAY TO YOUTH.
 
TEMPT ME NO MORE.
 
APRIL.
 
AT THE GATE.
 
PEACE.
 
LOST.
 
NIGHTFALL.
 
JUNE.
 
“THE UPWARD ROAD.”
 
PROMOTED.
 
VINE-LIFE.
 
THE WATCHERS.
 
IN THE DEFENCES.
 
MY SHIP.
 
BRINGING OUR SHEAVES WITH US.

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218

TEMPT ME NO MORE.

Tempt me no more;—thy tones are sweet and deep,
Yet they fall vainly on my weary ears:
Pass on, and leave me here to dream and weep,
Counting the footfalls of the lonesome years;—
Tempt me no more!
My wreath of life holds no fresh bloom for thee,—
Its flowers are strewn on unforgotten graves,—
Only its withered leaves remain to me,
And they drift darkly toward death's wintry waves;—
Tempt me no more.
Gather not rose-leaves trampled in the dust:
No kindness can their wasted bloom renew.
Go, let them die unheeded, as they must;
Seek thou for blossoms fresh and bright with dew;—
Tempt me no more!
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