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88
SUE.
She was a freak of Nature's joy,
A flow'ret wonder-pied,—
As startling as a pansy found
Black-leaved, and golden eyed.
A flow'ret wonder-pied,—
As startling as a pansy found
Black-leaved, and golden eyed.
Her voice was borrowed from the choir
That rings the vernal years;
Her temper was ethereal fire
That calmed itself in tears.
That rings the vernal years;
Her temper was ethereal fire
That calmed itself in tears.
Some nameless touch of God's delight
Fell on her, as she lay
An infant, dreaming heavenly dreams,
And never passed away.
Fell on her, as she lay
An infant, dreaming heavenly dreams,
And never passed away.
Her laughter, many-voiced and full,
Had not one scornful strain;
Her eyes, that flashed defiant mirth,
Were tender and humane.
Had not one scornful strain;
Her eyes, that flashed defiant mirth,
Were tender and humane.
89
She wore the radiance of her youth
As though she felt it not;
And while she held you with her speech,
Her beauty was forgot.
As though she felt it not;
And while she held you with her speech,
Her beauty was forgot.
For Soul to outward Beauty is
As Sun to dawning Day,
The rosy drapery vanishes
Before the conquering ray.
As Sun to dawning Day,
The rosy drapery vanishes
Before the conquering ray.
Twas hers to move in fearlessness,
And throne herself at ease;
Too royal were her gifts, that she
Should condescend to please.
And throne herself at ease;
Too royal were her gifts, that she
Should condescend to please.
Oh! dread and discontent of life!
Do angels reason why
The small of soul grow smaller still,
While great hearts break and die?
Do angels reason why
The small of soul grow smaller still,
While great hearts break and die?
[OMITTED]
She left us in the sweet, calm June,
When all things tend to rest;
And her own bud of summer lay
Half-ripened in her breast.
When all things tend to rest;
And her own bud of summer lay
Half-ripened in her breast.
90
It needs no name to make her known—
Her form of love and grace
Endures to marble in true hearts,
Her deathless resting-place.
Her form of love and grace
Endures to marble in true hearts,
Her deathless resting-place.
Yet could I an immortal paint
In high, heroic glee,
Outvying summer winds and waves
In leaping ecstasy;
In high, heroic glee,
Outvying summer winds and waves
In leaping ecstasy;
But sorrow-touched, as having borne
A woman's destiny,
Quick tears, in loving eyes surprised
Would answer: This is She.
A woman's destiny,
Quick tears, in loving eyes surprised
Would answer: This is She.
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