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A lover's diary

Cary, Alice (1820-1871)

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DEDICATION.
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PART I. DREAM-LAND.
  
MONA, SEVEN YEARS OLD.
  
MONA, EIGHT YEARS OLD.
  
MONA, AT SCHOOL.
  
MONA, TEN YEARS OLD.
  
MONA, FOURTEEN.
  
MONA, SLEEPING.
  
MONA, SPINNING.
  
MONA, KNITTING.
  
MONA, MILKING.
  
KRUMLEY.
  
MONA, FIFTEEN.
  
MONA, PERFECT.
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PART II. SERENADES.
 1. 
I. APRIL.
 2. 
II. MAY.
 3. 
III. JUNE.
 4. 
IV. JULY.
 5. 
V. JULY.
 6. 
VI. AUGUST.
 7. 
VII. AUGUST.
 8. 
VIII. SEPTEMBER.
 9. 
IX. NOVEMBER.
 10. 
X. DECEMBER.
 11. 
XI. DECEMBER.
 12. 
XII. JANUARY.
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PART III. RHAPSODIES.
 1. 
[I. My beautiful little one]
 2. 
II. SPRING.
 3. 
III. CRAZY.
 4. 
IV. IN ABSENCE.
 5. 
V. ALL IN ALL.
 6. 
VI. VAGARIES.
 7. 
VII. MONA, SAD.
 8. 
VIII. MONA, SICK.
 9. 
IX. MONA, SICK.
 10. 
X. INSPIRED.
 11. 
[XI. Who wills it so, may praise]
 12. 
XII. WEARY.
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PART IV. REJECTED.
  
[I] PROPOSAL.
  
[II] REFUSAL.
 3. 
[III. Thou, that drawest aside the curtain]
 4. 
[IV. Kiss me, though you make believe]
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PART V. IN DESPAIR.
 1. 
[I. Through her I felt the evening's hush]
 2. 
II. TO THE MARCH FLOWERS.
 3. 
[III. I wish the rose were not so red]
 4. 
[IV. The violets, O the violets]
 5. 
V. AUGUST.
 6. 
[VI. The moon that was a crescent yesterday]
 7. 
[VII. O for the summers when]
 8. 
VIII. OCTOBER.
 9. 
[IX. Some quiet beams at daylight's close]
 10. 
[X. The nights they come and the nights they go]
 11. 
[XI. Her mouth was red, and you would say]
 12. 
[XII. I know not what the world may be]
 13. 
[XIII. My heart, my heart! I'm weary of your sighing]
 14. 
[XIV. The sun comes up and the sun goes down]
 15. 
[XV. The sun has vanished out o' my sight]
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PART VI. LOVE-LETTERS.
 1. 
I. TO MONA.
 2. 
II. MONA'S ANSWER.
 3. 
III. TO MONA.
 4. 
IV. MONA'S ANSWER.
 5. 
[V. My cruel little Mona]
 6. 
[VI. Before the daybreak I arise]
 7. 
[VII. My days dawn upon me in sadness]
 8. 
VIII. ON RECEIVING SOME FADED FLOWERS.
 9. 
IX. WHEN SHE HAD PROMISED TO MEET ME.
 10. 
X. AFTER WE MET.
 11. 
[XI. Would you bide in sweet content]
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PART VII. SOLILOQUIES.
 1. 
[I. As one who from a troubled dream]
 2. 
[II. Why hast thou forgot the snow]
 3. 
[III. Mona hath a slender waist]
 4. 
[IV. Down either way, from gentle, dove-like eyes]
 5. 
[V. Love's light is strange to you? Ah me]
 6. 
[VI. Whene'er I see the evening's sober gray]
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PART VIII. LIGHT AND SHADOW.
  
LANDMARKS.
  
MONA'S MOTHER.
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PART IX. MONA'S SONGS.
 1. 
[I. All day yesterday as I spun]
 2. 
[II. Wind that criest and moanest so]
 3. 
[III. Low, sweet and low]
 4. 
[IV. Six skeins and three, six skeins and three]
 5. 
[V. Like a poet in the splendor]
 6. 
[VI. Dear heart, a love so truly true]
 7. 
[VII. Little daisy, go to bed]
 8. 
[VIII. Come from your long, long roving]
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PART X. CONVERSATIONS.
 1. 
[I. Ah, blame me gently, though I sit for hours]
 2. 
II MONA ASKS ME TO SING.
 3. 
III. I ASK MONA TO SING.
 4. 
[IV. I said, “I have a tale to tell!”]
 5. 
[V. Forgive me, but I needs must press]
 6. 
[VI.“I was blind till yesterday.—”]
 7. 
[VII. I asked my darling once if she]
 8. 
[VIII. How, my love, shall I make thy bed]
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PART XI. AFTER MARRIAGE.
 1. 
[I. Say, do you love me as in the olden]
 2. 
[II. We have been lovers now, my dear]
 3. 
III. CHARITY.
 4. 
[IV. The clouds in many a windy rack]

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114

V.
AUGUST.

Sink out of sight to the realm of night,
O false and faithless day;
For the lovely leaves of my rose of morn
Are broken and blown away.
My leaves are dead,—my hopes are fled,—
And my heart is sick with pain,—
Swing open silver gates o' the night,
And bring my dream again!
The flower o' the wind on the grass lies blind,
And, spite the daffodil's pride,
His pot of gold grows heavy to hold,
And he hangs his head aside.
115

There is only one, the flower o' the sun,
That still from morn till night
Can stand and stare through her curly hair,
In the face of the flaunting light.
Hasten away, O faithless day,
For the light of my life is set,
And thou seemest to me to only be
A cruel and cold coquette.
Now with a smile to flatter awhile
The creeping, credulous rills,
And now to lie on a bank o' the sky,
Kissing the heads o' the hills!
Your frown will fade, my little maid,
When I sink to the arms of sleep;
And my rose will seem to bloom in my dream
When the dews so softly weep.
116

Then haste away, O faithless day
That has turned my peace to pain,—
Swing open silver gates o' the west,
And bring my dream again!
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