 | Poems by Julia C. R. Dorr |  |
442
“BY DIVERS PATHS”
Unknown to me thy name or state,
Save that a mantle saintly
Of rare and sweet unworldliness
Enfolded thee most quaintly.
Save that a mantle saintly
Of rare and sweet unworldliness
Enfolded thee most quaintly.
We came and went by divers paths;
We planned nor time, nor meeting;
We spake not, save by nod, or smile,
Or glance of casual greeting.
We planned nor time, nor meeting;
We spake not, save by nod, or smile,
Or glance of casual greeting.
Yet, led by some strange chance or fate
To-day by ruined altars,
Where, strained through clustering ivy leaves,
The pitying sunshine falters;
To-day by ruined altars,
Where, strained through clustering ivy leaves,
The pitying sunshine falters;
To-morrow where your blue lakes shine,
And bloom your English daisies;
Or on Helvellyn's lofty crest
The sunset splendor blazes;
And bloom your English daisies;
Or on Helvellyn's lofty crest
The sunset splendor blazes;
Or where deep organ-thunders roll
Through grand cathedral arches,
And stately Durham's triple towers
Look toward the Scottish marches;
Through grand cathedral arches,
And stately Durham's triple towers
Look toward the Scottish marches;
Thus, here and there, we met, nor knew
Each other's name nor mission,
The while a subtile kinship grew
To silent recognition.
Each other's name nor mission,
The while a subtile kinship grew
To silent recognition.
443
At length where stretched a princely street
In long, receding splendor,
Down which the golden sunshine threw
A radiance warm and tender;
In long, receding splendor,
Down which the golden sunshine threw
A radiance warm and tender;
While far above us, frowning, hung
A castle old and hoary,
Stern on its battlemented heights
Renowned in song and story;
A castle old and hoary,
Stern on its battlemented heights
Renowned in song and story;
And near us, throned in marble state,
O'er time and death victorious,
He sat, the magic of whose pen
Made king and castle glorious—
O'er time and death victorious,
He sat, the magic of whose pen
Made king and castle glorious—
There, face to face, once more we met,
Like leaves in autumn weather,
That blown afar by varying winds,
Yet drift again together.
Like leaves in autumn weather,
That blown afar by varying winds,
Yet drift again together.
A look, a smile, and “Is it thou?”
A little low, sweet laughter,
Just one close clasp of meeting hands,
And then, a moment after,
A little low, sweet laughter,
Just one close clasp of meeting hands,
And then, a moment after,
Between us swept the surging crowd
And we were borne asunder.
O, friend unknown, in what far land
Will we next meet, I wonder?
And we were borne asunder.
O, friend unknown, in what far land
Will we next meet, I wonder?
| Poems by Julia C. R. Dorr | |