 | Poems by Julia C. R. Dorr |  |
227
THE DIFFERENCE
Only a week ago and thou wert here!
I touched thy hand, I saw thy dear, dark eyes,
I kissed thy tender lips, I felt thee near,
I spake, and listened to thy low replies.
I touched thy hand, I saw thy dear, dark eyes,
I kissed thy tender lips, I felt thee near,
I spake, and listened to thy low replies.
To-day what leagues between us! Hill and vale,
The rolling prairies and the mighty seas;
Gray forest reaches where the wild winds wail,
And mountain crests uplifted to the breeze!
The rolling prairies and the mighty seas;
Gray forest reaches where the wild winds wail,
And mountain crests uplifted to the breeze!
So far thou art, who wert of late so near!
The stars we watched have changed not in the skies;
Still do thy hyacinth bells their beauty wear,
Yet half a continent between us lies!
The stars we watched have changed not in the skies;
Still do thy hyacinth bells their beauty wear,
Yet half a continent between us lies!
But swift as thought along the “singing wires”
There flies a message like a bright-winged bird—
“All's well! All's well!” and ne'er from woodland choirs
By gladder music hath the air been stirred!
There flies a message like a bright-winged bird—
“All's well! All's well!” and ne'er from woodland choirs
By gladder music hath the air been stirred!
But thou, O thou, who but a week ago
Passed calmly out beyond our yearning gaze,
As some grand ship, all solemnly and slow,
Sails out of sight beyond the gathering haze—
Passed calmly out beyond our yearning gaze,
As some grand ship, all solemnly and slow,
Sails out of sight beyond the gathering haze—
Oh, where art thou? In what far distant realm,
What star in yon resplendent fields of light,
On what fair isle that no rude seas may whelm,
Dost thou, O brother, find thy home to-night?
What star in yon resplendent fields of light,
228
Dost thou, O brother, find thy home to-night?
Or art thou near us? There are those who say
That but a breath divides our world from thine;
A little cloud that may be blown away—
A gossamer veil than spider's web more fine.
That but a breath divides our world from thine;
A little cloud that may be blown away—
A gossamer veil than spider's web more fine.
Dost thou, a shadowy presence, linger near
The happy paths that thou wert wont to tread,
Where woods were still, and shining brooks ran clear,
And waving boughs arched greenly overhead?
The happy paths that thou wert wont to tread,
Where woods were still, and shining brooks ran clear,
And waving boughs arched greenly overhead?
Oh! be thou far or near, it is the same!
From thee there floats no message thro' the air;
No glad “All's well” comes to us in thy name
That we the joy of thy new life may share!
From thee there floats no message thro' the air;
No glad “All's well” comes to us in thy name
That we the joy of thy new life may share!
| Poems by Julia C. R. Dorr | |