Mr. and Mrs. Woodbridge with other tales, representing life as it is and intended to show what it should be |
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TO ONE BELOVED. |
 | Mr. and Mrs. Woodbridge |  |
TO ONE BELOVED.
TO ONE BELOVED.
BY PARK BENJAMIN.
Dost thou not turn,
Fairest and sweetest, from the flowery way,
On which thy feet are treading every day,
And seek to learn
Tidings, sometimes, of him who loved thee well—
More than the pen can write or tongue can tell?
Gaze not thine eyes
(Oh, wild and lustrous eyes, ye were my fate!)
Upon the lines he fashioned, not of late,
But when the skies
Of joy were over him, and he was blessed
That he could sing of treasures he possessed?
Treasures more dear
Than gold in ingots or barbaric piles
Of pearls and diamonds—thy most precious smiles!
Bring, bring me here,
Oh ruthless Time, some of those treasures now,
And print a hundred wrinkles on my brow.
Fairest and sweetest, from the flowery way,
On which thy feet are treading every day,
And seek to learn
Tidings, sometimes, of him who loved thee well—
More than the pen can write or tongue can tell?
Gaze not thine eyes
(Oh, wild and lustrous eyes, ye were my fate!)
Upon the lines he fashioned, not of late,
But when the skies
Of joy were over him, and he was blessed
That he could sing of treasures he possessed?
Treasures more dear
Than gold in ingots or barbaric piles
Of pearls and diamonds—thy most precious smiles!
Bring, bring me here,
Oh ruthless Time, some of those treasures now,
And print a hundred wrinkles on my brow.
128
Make me grow old
Before my years are many—take away
Health, youth, ambition—let my strength decay,
My mind be sold
To be the slave of some strange, barren lore—
Only those treasures to my heart restore!
Ah, I implore
A boon that cannot be, a blessing flown
Unto a realm so distant from my own
That, could I soar
On eagle's wings, it still would be afar
As if I strove by flight to reach a star!
The future vast
Before me lifts majestic steps on high,
Which I must stand upon before I die;
For, in the past
Love buried lies; and nothing lives but Fame
To speak unto the coming age, my race and name.
Before my years are many—take away
Health, youth, ambition—let my strength decay,
My mind be sold
To be the slave of some strange, barren lore—
Only those treasures to my heart restore!
Ah, I implore
A boon that cannot be, a blessing flown
Unto a realm so distant from my own
That, could I soar
On eagle's wings, it still would be afar
As if I strove by flight to reach a star!
The future vast
Before me lifts majestic steps on high,
Which I must stand upon before I die;
For, in the past
Love buried lies; and nothing lives but Fame
To speak unto the coming age, my race and name.
| Mr. and Mrs. Woodbridge | |