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APPORTIONMENT |
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|
 | The poems of Madison Cawein |  |
95
APPORTIONMENT
If grief must fill my heart with tears, and Time
Abate no hour
Of agony with any happy rhyme,—
Be grief my dower.
Abate no hour
Of agony with any happy rhyme,—
Be grief my dower.
If days must sing to my attentive soul
Joy's cradle-song,
Nor lift one grave note in the gladsome whole,
Let joy be long.
Joy's cradle-song,
Nor lift one grave note in the gladsome whole,
Let joy be long.
Bring me pale flowers of the handselled hills,
To braid and lay
On coffined brows, sad separation fills
With death's dismay.
To braid and lay
On coffined brows, sad separation fills
With death's dismay.
Or dreams to drug my soul's life-cup with pure
Ideal love;
Glad dreams of life whose beauties aye allure
The soul above.
Ideal love;
Glad dreams of life whose beauties aye allure
The soul above.
96
A harp, to hold against my heart and smite
With smiles and tears,
To sing bereavement or my soul's delight
Through all the years.
With smiles and tears,
To sing bereavement or my soul's delight
Through all the years.
Make of my heart a lute, for Love to wake
With tripping tune;
Or Loss to crush against her breast and break
With wilder croon.
With tripping tune;
Or Loss to crush against her breast and break
With wilder croon.
Upon the mountains of the morning lands,
Where all may look,
Let Hope arise and lift with astral hands
His starry book.
Where all may look,
Let Hope arise and lift with astral hands
His starry book.
Up bars of stars, the golden notes of skies,
On night's black scroll
Let the moon's music lift, and with it rise
Despair's dark soul.
On night's black scroll
Let the moon's music lift, and with it rise
Despair's dark soul.
Apportion, O my God, the hope or fear,
The grief or glee!
Thine be the purpose of each smile, each tear
Eternally.
The grief or glee!
Thine be the purpose of each smile, each tear
Eternally.
| The poems of Madison Cawein | |