 | The silver bridge and other poems |  |
33
LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP.
I dreamed I had for months been dead;
Spring rain, and summer light and bloom
Had swept across my lonesome bed,
With clover scent and wild bees' boom
Lightening the place of half its gloom.
Spring rain, and summer light and bloom
Had swept across my lonesome bed,
With clover scent and wild bees' boom
Lightening the place of half its gloom.
Serene and calm, my quiet ghost
Came softly back to see the place
Where I had joyed and suffered most;
To look upon his grieving face
Whose memory death could not erase.
Came softly back to see the place
Where I had joyed and suffered most;
To look upon his grieving face
Whose memory death could not erase.
But he, my love, whom even in heaven
I yearned to comfort and sustain,
Knowing how sore his heart was riven—
My love, with life so changed to pain
That he could never love again—
I yearned to comfort and sustain,
Knowing how sore his heart was riven—
My love, with life so changed to pain
That he could never love again—
Forgetful of the golden band
On my dead finger slumbering,
Now bent above another hand,
And clasped and kissed the dainty thing,
And whispered of another ring.
On my dead finger slumbering,
Now bent above another hand,
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And whispered of another ring.
Alas, poor ghost! I felt a thrill,
A sudden stab of mortal pain,
And sighed. He shivered: “Ah, how chill
The air has grown, and full of rain;
My darling, kiss me warm again!”
A sudden stab of mortal pain,
And sighed. He shivered: “Ah, how chill
The air has grown, and full of rain;
My darling, kiss me warm again!”
Why should I linger? As I passed
Her lips touched shyly, murmuring low,
Just where my own had kissed their last,
Only so little while ago;
“Ah, well,” I said, “'t is better so.”
Her lips touched shyly, murmuring low,
Just where my own had kissed their last,
Only so little while ago;
“Ah, well,” I said, “'t is better so.”
But one who in my life passed by
With friendship's coolest touch and tone,
I found beneath the darkening sky,
Beside my grave all bramble-grown,
With sorrow in his eyes—alone.
With friendship's coolest touch and tone,
I found beneath the darkening sky,
Beside my grave all bramble-grown,
With sorrow in his eyes—alone.
A tear, down-glittering as he stood,
Hung, star-like, in the grass below:
I blessed him in my gratitude—
He smiled: “Dear heart, if she could know
How sweet these brier-blossoms grow!”
Hung, star-like, in the grass below:
I blessed him in my gratitude—
He smiled: “Dear heart, if she could know
How sweet these brier-blossoms grow!”
| The silver bridge and other poems | |