 | Early and late poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
AN EVENING RHYME.
This was a goodly day—the sun
Sunk to his rest in radiant calms;
I hear the gray sea singing psalms
The same as he has always done.
Sunk to his rest in radiant calms;
I hear the gray sea singing psalms
The same as he has always done.
The moon in tender beauty clad
Looks down upon me from the sky—
What is it ails the time, that I
Should be so sick at heart, so sad!
Looks down upon me from the sky—
What is it ails the time, that I
Should be so sick at heart, so sad!
My baby's little lispings war
Against it, all in vain—ah me,
His golden head upon my knee
Seems farther from me than the star!
Against it, all in vain—ah me,
His golden head upon my knee
Seems farther from me than the star!
I feel, alas I know not what
Of darkness on my senses fall—
Friends come—the best friend of them all
Comes to me, yet he finds me not;
Of darkness on my senses fall—
Friends come—the best friend of them all
Comes to me, yet he finds me not;
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Or I find him not, for he seems
Like other men, nor less nor more—
Time was with me the dress he wore,
The book he read, was food for dreams.
Like other men, nor less nor more—
Time was with me the dress he wore,
The book he read, was food for dreams.
That time will come again to me—
For if we would, we cannot break
The sweet affinities that make
Such poems in our lives—not we.
For if we would, we cannot break
The sweet affinities that make
Such poems in our lives—not we.
And this dull mood that seems th' abuse
Of opportunity, is right;
Light cannot be defined by light—
The blur, the shadow, have their use;
Of opportunity, is right;
Light cannot be defined by light—
The blur, the shadow, have their use;
The failure teaches us to know
The way of success—strife bringeth strength—
Pain works itself to peace at length,
The unstable brings the sure, and though
The way of success—strife bringeth strength—
Pain works itself to peace at length,
The unstable brings the sure, and though
The world within our hearts to-day,
Like a great emerald in a rim
Of rubies, straightway groweth dim,
And slippeth from our hearts away;
Like a great emerald in a rim
Of rubies, straightway groweth dim,
And slippeth from our hearts away;
I hold this truth all truths above—
Whatever else that firmest stands
Shall slide together like dry sands—
The truth, the eternity of love!
Whatever else that firmest stands
Shall slide together like dry sands—
The truth, the eternity of love!
| Early and late poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |