 | [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary with introduction and notes |  |
THE BRIDE.
Like the music of an arrow,
Rushing, singing from the string,
Was the sound in the June roses
Of each homeward cleaving wing,
Rushing, singing from the string,
Was the sound in the June roses
Of each homeward cleaving wing,
Where the leaves were softly parted
By a hand of snowy grace,
Letting in a shower of sunlight
Brightly o'er an eager face;
By a hand of snowy grace,
Letting in a shower of sunlight
Brightly o'er an eager face;
O'er the young face of a maiden,
Touched by changing hope and fear,
As the sound of rapid hoof-strokes,
Nearing, fell upon the ear,
Touched by changing hope and fear,
As the sound of rapid hoof-strokes,
Nearing, fell upon the ear,
White robes softly heaving, fluttering,
O'er her bosom's rise of snow,
Spoke the strange and soft confession
Of the beating heart below.
O'er her bosom's rise of snow,
Spoke the strange and soft confession
Of the beating heart below.
And the face had sweet revealings,
Sweeter than the lip may speak,
For the soft fires of confession
Lit their crimson in the cheek.
Sweeter than the lip may speak,
For the soft fires of confession
Lit their crimson in the cheek.
403
Not for friend, and not for brother,
Kept she eager vigil there;
Not for friend, and not for brother,
Gleamed the roses in her hair.
Kept she eager vigil there;
Not for friend, and not for brother,
Gleamed the roses in her hair.
[OMITTED]
Myriad frost-sparks fire-like glittered
In the keen and bitter air,
And no wild bird, dropping downward,
Stirred the branches cold and bare.
In the keen and bitter air,
And no wild bird, dropping downward,
Stirred the branches cold and bare.
Flaming in the glorious forehead
Of the midnight, high and lone,
Starry constellations, steadfast,
Yet like burning jewels shone;
Of the midnight, high and lone,
Starry constellations, steadfast,
Yet like burning jewels shone;
When, from a sick couch uplifted,
A thin hand, most snowy white,
Parted back the curtains softly,
Letting in the pallid light.
A thin hand, most snowy white,
Parted back the curtains softly,
Letting in the pallid light.
Eyes of more than mortal brightness
Spoke the waiting heart's desire,
And the hollow cheeks were lighted
With a quick, consuming fire.
Spoke the waiting heart's desire,
And the hollow cheeks were lighted
With a quick, consuming fire.
That young watcher in the roses,
Of the earnest eye and brow,
Keeps again her anxious vigil;
Who shall end its moments now?
Of the earnest eye and brow,
Keeps again her anxious vigil;
Who shall end its moments now?
Lo! the breast is softly trembling,
But with hope that has no fear:
By that happy smile the Presence
She hath waited for is near!
But with hope that has no fear:
By that happy smile the Presence
She hath waited for is near!
For a bridegroom hath she tarried;
Bring the roses for her brow;
Though no human passion answers
To his icy kisses now.
Bring the roses for her brow;
Though no human passion answers
To his icy kisses now.
404
Bride of earth! here, hoping, fearing,
Evil were thy days, and vain;
Bride of heaven! for blest fruition
Thou shalt never wait again.
Evil were thy days, and vain;
Bride of heaven! for blest fruition
Thou shalt never wait again.
| [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary with introduction and notes | |