 | From Sunset Ridge |  |
110
REMEMBRANCE
There was a time when thy dear face to me
Was but a dream, with nameless pangs between.
Three happy years upheld the fatal screen
Whose fall left blank and bitterness for thee.
Was but a dream, with nameless pangs between.
Three happy years upheld the fatal screen
Whose fall left blank and bitterness for thee.
As one who at a gracious drama sits,
And builds long vistas in its magic ways,
“For this must come, and this;” and while he stays
The end consigns him to the silent streets:
And builds long vistas in its magic ways,
“For this must come, and this;” and while he stays
The end consigns him to the silent streets:
So did I stand when thy sweet play was done,
Wondering what spell the curtain still should hide,
Waiting and weeping, till my saintly guide
Took by the hand, and pitying said, “Pass on.”
Wondering what spell the curtain still should hide,
Waiting and weeping, till my saintly guide
Took by the hand, and pitying said, “Pass on.”
So thou art hid again, and wilt not come
For any knocking at the veilèd door;
Nor mother-pangs, nor nature, can restore
The heart's delight and blossom of thy home.
For any knocking at the veilèd door;
Nor mother-pangs, nor nature, can restore
The heart's delight and blossom of thy home.
And I with others, in the outer court,
Must sadly follow the excluding will,
In painful admiration of the skill
Of God, who speaks his sweetest sentence short.
Must sadly follow the excluding will,
In painful admiration of the skill
Of God, who speaks his sweetest sentence short.
| From Sunset Ridge | |