 | [The dream of the consumptive, in] The opal : a pure gift for the holy days |  |
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THE DREAM OF THE CONSUMPTIVE.
“They tell me spring is coming,
That buds begin to swell;
They bid me trust the warm bright days
Will cheer and make me well;
I smile and answer playfully,—
I would not crush their hope,
But I feel the serpent at my heart
Which drinks its life-stream up.
That buds begin to swell;
They bid me trust the warm bright days
Will cheer and make me well;
I smile and answer playfully,—
I would not crush their hope,
But I feel the serpent at my heart
Which drinks its life-stream up.
“I heard a bird this morning,
Its song so blithe and wild,
It lulled me in the sweetest dream,—
I was again a child;
I bounded o'er the hill-side,
Like swallow on the air,
While earth seemed bright with new-wrought light
From beauty every where.
Its song so blithe and wild,
It lulled me in the sweetest dream,—
I was again a child;
I bounded o'er the hill-side,
Like swallow on the air,
While earth seemed bright with new-wrought light
From beauty every where.
“The trees, like incense bearers,
Showered blossoms on my head,
And flowers, as sweet as angel's smiles,
Bloomed up on every tread;
The little webs that veiled the grass,
Were gemm'd with diamond dew,
And o'er each rough unsightly thing
Green life its lustre threw.
Showered blossoms on my head,
And flowers, as sweet as angel's smiles,
Bloomed up on every tread;
The little webs that veiled the grass,
Were gemm'd with diamond dew,
And o'er each rough unsightly thing
Green life its lustre threw.
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“Like childhood in its gambols,
The merry mountain stream
Came singing on—I heard my name,
And started from my dream!
Oh! 'twas as though night's pall should sweep
Athwart the morning sky;
As though heaven's crystal gates should close
Before hope's lifted eye!
The merry mountain stream
Came singing on—I heard my name,
And started from my dream!
Oh! 'twas as though night's pall should sweep
Athwart the morning sky;
As though heaven's crystal gates should close
Before hope's lifted eye!
“And yet, why should I sorrow?
Though life seems glad and fair,
The brightest rose that blooms on earth
Conceals some thorns of care;
My foot hath only stirred the flowers,
But after years might show
A gloomy path and baffled hopes,
And pain, and sin, and woe.
Though life seems glad and fair,
The brightest rose that blooms on earth
Conceals some thorns of care;
My foot hath only stirred the flowers,
But after years might show
A gloomy path and baffled hopes,
And pain, and sin, and woe.
“My dream was kindly given—
The spirit's parting sign,
One glimpse of earth in beauty bright,
Ere breaks the morn divine.
Ah! see the skies are parting now,
A holier light is shed—
I come, I come!”—and that fair girl
Was gathered to the dead!
The spirit's parting sign,
One glimpse of earth in beauty bright,
Ere breaks the morn divine.
Ah! see the skies are parting now,
A holier light is shed—
I come, I come!”—and that fair girl
Was gathered to the dead!
| [The dream of the consumptive, in] The opal : a pure gift for the holy days | |