 | The poetical works of Lucy Larcom |  |
260
IN VISION.
Although to me remains not one regret
For lovely possibilities that were ours,
Dreamed out across vast beds of prairie-flowers
Into the beckoning West, where the sun set,
A glowing magnet, drawing our hearts on
As if they were but one heart, after him,
Where all our blending future seemed to swim
In light unutterable, a new dawn,
An opening Eden,—although it was well
That picture faded, haunts me yet its spell.
For lovely possibilities that were ours,
Dreamed out across vast beds of prairie-flowers
Into the beckoning West, where the sun set,
A glowing magnet, drawing our hearts on
As if they were but one heart, after him,
Where all our blending future seemed to swim
In light unutterable, a new dawn,
An opening Eden,—although it was well
That picture faded, haunts me yet its spell.
And I am glad I saw it, and with thee,—
Then near as my own spirit,—now as far
Removed into the unseen as that calm star
Which looked across the undulant grassy sea
Into our faces, and sank out of sight.
We dreamed a dream together: nothing more
To thee; to me a vision that before
Nor after broke the seals of heavenly light,
And showed me, rapt, life's beaker mystical,
Glimpsed and withdrawn, the untasted Holy Grail.
Then near as my own spirit,—now as far
Removed into the unseen as that calm star
Which looked across the undulant grassy sea
Into our faces, and sank out of sight.
We dreamed a dream together: nothing more
To thee; to me a vision that before
Nor after broke the seals of heavenly light,
And showed me, rapt, life's beaker mystical,
Glimpsed and withdrawn, the untasted Holy Grail.
I gazed there at thy bidding: was it wrong?
I knew a separate path awaited me,
And I divined another quest for thee,
Under strange skies, where I did not belong:
But for one hour, letting Doubt stand aside,
I saw Life pass, transfigured in Love's form;
The mystery wherewith inmost heaven is warm
Descended, clothed in whiteness, as a bride.
Though that apocalypse annulled thy claim,
Thine eyes yet burn their question through its flame.
I knew a separate path awaited me,
And I divined another quest for thee,
Under strange skies, where I did not belong:
But for one hour, letting Doubt stand aside,
I saw Life pass, transfigured in Love's form;
The mystery wherewith inmost heaven is warm
Descended, clothed in whiteness, as a bride.
Though that apocalypse annulled thy claim,
Thine eyes yet burn their question through its flame.
Had but that fatal prescience been withheld,
Whereby To-morrow evermore would rise,
Laughing To-day down with relentless eyes,
What beauty had we not together spelled
Out of Life's wonder-book,—or else, what bale!
The dream was not fulfilled,—could never be;
Yet is the vision light of light to me,
Dazzling to blankness the world's bridal tale.—
Elsewhere our orbits meet, receding star,
Lost in the dawn that floods me from afar!
Whereby To-morrow evermore would rise,
Laughing To-day down with relentless eyes,
What beauty had we not together spelled
Out of Life's wonder-book,—or else, what bale!
The dream was not fulfilled,—could never be;
Yet is the vision light of light to me,
Dazzling to blankness the world's bridal tale.—
Elsewhere our orbits meet, receding star,
Lost in the dawn that floods me from afar!
| The poetical works of Lucy Larcom | |