4. PART IV
SONGS
“BECAUSE THE ROSE MUST FADE”
Because the rose must fade,
Shall I not love the rose?
Because the summer shade
Passes when winter blows,
Shall I not rest me there
In the cool air?
Because the sunset sky
Makes music in my soul,
Only to fail and die,
Shall I not take the whole
Of beauty that it gives
While yet it lives?
Because the sweet of youth
Doth vanish all too soon,
Shall I forget, forsooth,
To learn its lingering tune;
My joy to memorize
In those young eyes?
If, like the summer flower
That blooms—a fragrant death,
Keen music hath no power
To live beyond its breath,
Then of this flood of song
Let me drink long!
Ah, yes, because the rose
Fades like the sunset skies;
Because rude winter blows
All bare, and music dies—
Therefore, now is to me
Eternity!
“FADES THE ROSE”
Fades the rose; the year grows old;
The tale is told;
Youth doth depart—
Only stays the heart.
Ah, no! if stays the heart,
Youth can ne'er depart,
Nor the sweet tale be told—
Never the rose fade, nor the year grow old.
THE WINTRY HEART
On the sad winter trees
The dead, red leaves remain,
Tho' to and fro the bleak winds blow,
And falls the freezing rain.
So to the wintry heart
Clings color of the past,
While through dead leaves shudders and grieves
The melancholy blast.
HAST THOU HEARD THE NIGHTINGALE?
Yes, I have heard the nightingale.
As in dark woods I wandered,
And dreamed and pondered,
A voice past by all fire
And passion and desire;
I rather felt than heard
The song of that lone bird;
Yes, I have heard the nightingale.
Yes, I have heard the nightingale.
I heard it, and I followed;
The warm night swallowed
This soul and body of mine,
As burning thirst takes wine,
While on and on I prest
Close to that singing breast;
Yes, I have heard the nightingale.
Yes, I have heard the nightingale.
Well doth each throbbing ember
The flame remember;
And I, how quick that sound
Turned drops from a deep wound!
How this heart was the thorn
Which pierced that breast forlorn!
Yes, I have heard the nightingale.
“IN THAT DREAD, DREAMED-OF HOUR”
In that dread, dreamed-of hour
When in her heart love's rose flames into flower,
'T is never, never yes,
But no, no, no, whate'er the startled eyes confess.
Her frail denial at last
Swept clean away like burnt leaves in the blast,
No longer no, no, no!
But yes, forever yes, while love's red rose doth blow.
“ROSE-DARK THE SOLEMN SUNSET”
Rose-dark the solemn sunset
That holds my thought of thee;
With one star in the heavens
And one star in the sea.
On high no lamp is lighted,
Nor where the long waves flow,
Save the one star of evening
And the shadow star below.
Light of my Life! the darkness
Comes with the twilight dream;
Thou art the bright star shining,
I but the shadowy gleam.
“WINDS TO THE SILENT MORN”
Winds to the silent morn;
Waves to the ocean;
Voice to the song unsung;
Song to emotion;
Light to the golden flower;
Bird to the tree;
Love to the heart of love,
And I to thee!
Dawn to the darkened world;
Hope to the morrow;
Music to passion; and
Weeping to sorrow;
Love to the heart that longs;
Moon to the sea;
Heaven to the earthborn soul,
And thou to me.
THE UNRETURNING
I
Silent, silent are the unreturning!
What tho' word may reach to them, and yearning,
Never through the stillness of the night,
Never in the daytime or the dark
Comes the long-lost voice, or smile of light;
Lifts no hand from sea or sunken bark.
Silent, silent are the unreturning!
II
Silent, silent are the unreturning!
Silent they?—or are we undiscerning?
Child, my child! is this thy answering voice
Murmuring far down the mountain lone?
Evening's smile, that whispers: “Heart, rejoice!”
Mother mine! is this thy very own?
Nay! nay! Silent are the unreturning;
Silent, silent are the unreturning!
TWO YEARS
O, that was the year the last of those before thee;
All my world till then but dark before the dawn.
If then I had died, O, never had I known thee,
Never had beheld thee; I who won, who own thee;
Who chose thee, who sing thee, crown thee, and adore thee;
O, death it were indeed to die before that dawn!
This was the year when first I did behold thee,
Thou who on my darkness dawned with lyric light.
This the golden hour when first thy lover found thee,
Followed and beguiled thee, and with his singing bound thee;
When all the world with music rang to drown thee and enfold thee—
Thou who turned the darkness to song, and love, and light!
