 | [Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
A LESSON.
Woodland, green and gay with dew,
Here, to-day, I pledge anew
All the love I gave to you
Here, to-day, I pledge anew
All the love I gave to you
When my heart was young and glad,
And in dress of homespun plaid,
Bright as any flower you had,
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Bright as any flower you had,
Through your bushy ways I trod,
Or, lay hushed upon your sod
With my silence praising God.
Or, lay hushed upon your sod
With my silence praising God.
Never sighing for the town—
Never giving back a frown
To the sun that kissed me brown.
Never giving back a frown
To the sun that kissed me brown.
When my hopes were of such stuff,
That my days, though crude enough,
Were with golden gladness rough—
That my days, though crude enough,
Were with golden gladness rough—
Timid creatures of the air—
Little ground-mice, shy and fair—
You were friendly with me there.
Little ground-mice, shy and fair—
You were friendly with me there.
Beeches gray, and solemn firs,
Thickets full of bees and burs,
You were then my school-masters,
Thickets full of bees and burs,
You were then my school-masters,
Teaching me as best you could,
How the evil by the good—
Thorns by flowers must be construed.
How the evil by the good—
Thorns by flowers must be construed.
Rivulets of silvery sound,
Searching close, I always found
Fretting over stony ground.
Searching close, I always found
Fretting over stony ground.
And in hollows, cold and wet,
Violets purpled into jet
As if bad blood had been let;
Violets purpled into jet
As if bad blood had been let;
While in every sunny place,
Each one wore upon her face
Looks of true and tender grace.
Each one wore upon her face
Looks of true and tender grace.
Leaning from the hedge-row wall,
Gave the rose her sweets to all,
Like a royal prodigal.
Gave the rose her sweets to all,
Like a royal prodigal.
And the lily, priestly white,
Made a little saintly light
In her chapel out of sight.
Made a little saintly light
In her chapel out of sight.
Heedless how the spider spun—
Heedless of the brook that run
Boldly winking at the sun.
Heedless of the brook that run
Boldly winking at the sun.
When the autumn clouds did pack
Hue on hue, unto that black
That 's bluish, like a serpent's back,
Hue on hue, unto that black
That 's bluish, like a serpent's back,
Emptying all their cisterns out,
While the winds in fear and doubt
Whirled like dervises about,
While the winds in fear and doubt
Whirled like dervises about,
And the mushroom, brown and dry,
On the meadow's face did lie,
Shrunken like an evil eye—
On the meadow's face did lie,
Shrunken like an evil eye—
Shrunken all its fleshy skin,
Like a lid that wrinkles in
Where an eyeball once had been.
Like a lid that wrinkles in
Where an eyeball once had been.
How my soul within me cried,
As along the woodland side
All the flowers fell sick and died.
As along the woodland side
All the flowers fell sick and died.
But when Spring returned, she said,
“They were sleeping, and not dead—
Thus must light and darkness wed.”
“They were sleeping, and not dead—
Thus must light and darkness wed.”
Since that lesson, even death
Lies upon the glass of faith,
Like the dimness of a breath.
Lies upon the glass of faith,
Like the dimness of a breath.
| [Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |