 | Poems by John Howard Bryant |  |
148
LINES WITHOUT NAME.
“Long have I loved what I behold,
The night that calms, the day that cheers;
The common growth of mother earth
Suffices me—her tears, her mirth—
Her humblest mirth and tears.
—Wordsworth.
The night that calms, the day that cheers;
The common growth of mother earth
Suffices me—her tears, her mirth—
Her humblest mirth and tears.
—Wordsworth.
Old age is stealing o'er me fast, for wrinkled is my brow,
And here and there upon my head are gray hairs even now,
And soon will life be o'er with me, and I shall slumber then,
And other feet will follow on the track where mine have been.
And here and there upon my head are gray hairs even now,
And soon will life be o'er with me, and I shall slumber then,
And other feet will follow on the track where mine have been.
Though manhood's years of cares and fears, have not the glorious hue,
The thrill of joy and wild romance, my early childhood knew—
Yet 'twill be hard to leave thy scenes, O, beautiful green earth,
Still drest in all the loveliness that dawned upon thy birth.
The thrill of joy and wild romance, my early childhood knew—
Yet 'twill be hard to leave thy scenes, O, beautiful green earth,
Still drest in all the loveliness that dawned upon thy birth.
149
How can I bid farewell to things that I have known so long,
To which my inmost heart is bound with fetters fast and strong!
The play-place of my early days, the streamlet by my door,
And all the pleasant haunts of youth I knew and loved before.
To which my inmost heart is bound with fetters fast and strong!
The play-place of my early days, the streamlet by my door,
And all the pleasant haunts of youth I knew and loved before.
The wide range o'er the mountain top, the homes of men around,
The deep untrodden woodland shades, the blooming orchard ground;
The ripple of the running brook, the music of the breeze,
That sighs along the grassy glade and whispers in the trees;
The deep untrodden woodland shades, the blooming orchard ground;
The ripple of the running brook, the music of the breeze,
That sighs along the grassy glade and whispers in the trees;
The spring that comes with song and bloom, to gladden all the plain,
The ruddy fruits that crown the hills in autumn's golden reign;
All these my yearning heart must leave, and pass from earth away,
Though dear the links that bind me here they cannot last for aye.
The ruddy fruits that crown the hills in autumn's golden reign;
All these my yearning heart must leave, and pass from earth away,
Though dear the links that bind me here they cannot last for aye.
150
I've danced my children on my knee, and kissed their sleeping eyes.
And when they smiled, their smiles to me were bright as summer skies.
As time passed on, my love waxed strong, I felt a father's pride,
As they grew up in manly strength and beauty by my side;
And when they smiled, their smiles to me were bright as summer skies.
As time passed on, my love waxed strong, I felt a father's pride,
As they grew up in manly strength and beauty by my side;
And gladness sometimes lights my eye, to see them round my hearth,
The pillars of my fading age, fair forms and hearts of mirth,
But icy chills run o'er my frame, even now in life's calm noon,
To know my glass is wasting fast, and I must must leave them soon.
The pillars of my fading age, fair forms and hearts of mirth,
But icy chills run o'er my frame, even now in life's calm noon,
To know my glass is wasting fast, and I must must leave them soon.
O, I have lov'd from boyhood up, on this fair earth to look,
And many a lesson deep have learn'd from nature's open book,
Amidst her calm and lonely scenes, where all was silentness,
Strong thoughts have struggled in my breast, I cannot half express;
And childhood's mirth, and woman's smiles, and manhood's noble frame,
Are images from which arise, feelings of holier name.
Strong is my love for earth's glad scenes, and strong the ties that bind
My sinking spirit to the friends that I shall leave behind
And when at last the hour is come, to bow my head and die,
A tear for nature and for man, will tremble my eye.
And many a lesson deep have learn'd from nature's open book,
Amidst her calm and lonely scenes, where all was silentness,
Strong thoughts have struggled in my breast, I cannot half express;
151
Are images from which arise, feelings of holier name.
Strong is my love for earth's glad scenes, and strong the ties that bind
My sinking spirit to the friends that I shall leave behind
And when at last the hour is come, to bow my head and die,
A tear for nature and for man, will tremble my eye.
| Poems by John Howard Bryant | |