 | The Uncollected Poems of Henry Timrod |  |
LINES
WHEN YOUTH'S FIRST WARMEST HOPES
When youth's first warmest hopes have perish'd—
Friends ardently and dearly cherish'd—
Like flower-buds gather'd in the morn
Ere half their loveliness is born,
The wound is deeply felt indeed,
And inly does the bosom bleed.
But other sources of delight,
Stars hidden far within the night,
Break forth to gild the passing cloud,
Whose dim and solemn folds enshroud
The calm pure light of happier days
The future from the aching gaze,
Until the very cloud is made
A bright—though melancholy shade
But hearts which have lived on together
Through stormy night and sunny weather,
And like sweet sister flowers have long
To the frail stem of friendship clung,
Till thought and joy and life are wound
That cherish'd stem's existence round,
Oh! not for such hath Hope one smile
Or earth a beauty to beguile
That weariness of soul which blights
As soon as dream'd the days delights
When Death the only spring hath froze
From which those dear delights arose.
Said I that Hope possess'd no power
To light the darkness of that hour?
Ah! no fair Deity I wrong
The sweetness of thy magic song,
When thou hast made its glorious theme
No visionary earthly dream,
When brightest scenes of heavenly bliss—
Earnests themselves of happiness—
And thoughts first born on Calvary play
Through the low murmurs of thy lay.
Friends ardently and dearly cherish'd—
Like flower-buds gather'd in the morn
Ere half their loveliness is born,
The wound is deeply felt indeed,
And inly does the bosom bleed.
But other sources of delight,
38
Break forth to gild the passing cloud,
Whose dim and solemn folds enshroud
The calm pure light of happier days
The future from the aching gaze,
Until the very cloud is made
A bright—though melancholy shade
But hearts which have lived on together
Through stormy night and sunny weather,
And like sweet sister flowers have long
To the frail stem of friendship clung,
Till thought and joy and life are wound
That cherish'd stem's existence round,
Oh! not for such hath Hope one smile
Or earth a beauty to beguile
That weariness of soul which blights
As soon as dream'd the days delights
When Death the only spring hath froze
From which those dear delights arose.
Said I that Hope possess'd no power
To light the darkness of that hour?
Ah! no fair Deity I wrong
The sweetness of thy magic song,
When thou hast made its glorious theme
No visionary earthly dream,
When brightest scenes of heavenly bliss—
Earnests themselves of happiness—
And thoughts first born on Calvary play
Through the low murmurs of thy lay.
Yes let such strains thy numbers speak
The breaking heart grows calm and meek,
To God's unerring will resign'd
Again the calm contented mind
Looks forward to that happy day,
When even thou wilt lose thy sway
And present pleasure be too deep
To wake desire for those that sleep,
As stars within the day light pale,
Behind Eternity's bright veil.
The breaking heart grows calm and meek,
39
Again the calm contented mind
Looks forward to that happy day,
When even thou wilt lose thy sway
And present pleasure be too deep
To wake desire for those that sleep,
As stars within the day light pale,
Behind Eternity's bright veil.
| The Uncollected Poems of Henry Timrod | |