 | [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
DESPAIR.
Come, most melancholy maid,
From thy tent of woeful shade.
And with hemlock, sere and brown,
Keep the struggling daylight down.
From thy pale unsmiling brow
Wind the heavy tresses now,
And in whispers sad and low
I will tell thee all my woe.
From thy tent of woeful shade.
And with hemlock, sere and brown,
Keep the struggling daylight down.
From thy pale unsmiling brow
Wind the heavy tresses now,
And in whispers sad and low
I will tell thee all my woe.
The path watched and guarded most,
By an evil star is crossed,
And a dear one lies to-day
Sick, in prison, far away—
Naked, famished, suffering wrong;
Dreamed I of him all night long,
And each dreary wind o'erblown
Seemed an echo of his moan.
By an evil star is crossed,
And a dear one lies to-day
Sick, in prison, far away—
Naked, famished, suffering wrong;
Dreamed I of him all night long,
And each dreary wind o'erblown
Seemed an echo of his moan.
When he left me, long ago,
Brown locks, touched of summer's glow,
Beautified his boyish brow—
Thinned and faded are they now.
Brown locks, touched of summer's glow,
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Thinned and faded are they now.
Seeing clouds like oxen stray
Through the azure fields all day,
And the lengthening sunbeams lie
Like bright furrows of the sky,
Underneath an oaken roof
We were sitting, sorrow-proof—
Cheating I with tales the hours,
Heaping he my lap with flowers.
Through the azure fields all day,
And the lengthening sunbeams lie
Like bright furrows of the sky,
Underneath an oaken roof
We were sitting, sorrow-proof—
Cheating I with tales the hours,
Heaping he my lap with flowers.
As yon elm, the ivied one,
Came between us and the sun,
And the lambs went toward the fold,
I remember that I told,
How the robin and the wren,
Friendless and unburied men
Cover with the leaves of flowers
From the twilight's chilly hours.
Came between us and the sun,
And the lambs went toward the fold,
I remember that I told,
How the robin and the wren,
Friendless and unburied men
Cover with the leaves of flowers
From the twilight's chilly hours.
Now along the level snow
Glistening the frost specks glow,
And the trees stand high and bare,
Shivering in the bitter air
—Come, oh melancholy maid,
From thy tent of woeful shade,
That in whispers, sad and low,
I may tell thee all my woe.
Glistening the frost specks glow,
And the trees stand high and bare,
Shivering in the bitter air
—Come, oh melancholy maid,
From thy tent of woeful shade,
That in whispers, sad and low,
I may tell thee all my woe.
| [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |