 | The Poems of Mackenzie Bell |  |
120
“WHILE THE SUNSET, SLOWLY DYING.”
While the sunset, slowly dying,
Sheds a light o'er sea and strand,
And the night-chilled breeze is sighing
As the darkness wraps the land—
Come, with influence strong yet tender,
Mingled thoughts of vanished years,
Waking soul-thrills that can render
Sometimes joy and sometimes tears.
All the past, returning, seems
Present with its living dreams.
Sheds a light o'er sea and strand,
And the night-chilled breeze is sighing
As the darkness wraps the land—
Come, with influence strong yet tender,
Mingled thoughts of vanished years,
Waking soul-thrills that can render
Sometimes joy and sometimes tears.
All the past, returning, seems
Present with its living dreams.
When the kindly summer's glory
Filled the earth with myriad charms,
First I breathed a lover's story—
First I felt true love's alarms—
First I pleaded with a maiden,
Hazel-eyed, and pure, and fair
As that eve whose gales love-laden
Wantoned with her auburn hair.
All the past, returning, seems
Present with its living dreams.
Filled the earth with myriad charms,
First I breathed a lover's story—
First I felt true love's alarms—
First I pleaded with a maiden,
Hazel-eyed, and pure, and fair
As that eve whose gales love-laden
Wantoned with her auburn hair.
All the past, returning, seems
Present with its living dreams.
Now to me how swiftly thronging
Come the visions of the past—
Treasured past to me belonging—
Span of bliss too deep to last:
Still do I remember clearly
What I asked in trembling tone,
And her words, “I love you dearly,
Yours I am, and yours alone.”
All the past, returning, seems
Present with its living dreams.
Come the visions of the past—
Treasured past to me belonging—
Span of bliss too deep to last:
Still do I remember clearly
What I asked in trembling tone,
121
Yours I am, and yours alone.”
All the past, returning, seems
Present with its living dreams.
We were “wedded, happy-hearted,”
And our future path seemed bright,
Who could tell we should be parted,
Love's glad sun obscured in night?
Yet one eve, when softly sighing
Summer breezes lulled the rose,
I beheld her, fainting, dying,
I beheld her dim eyes close.
Ah, how living, fraught with woe,
Rise the sights of long ago!
And our future path seemed bright,
Who could tell we should be parted,
Love's glad sun obscured in night?
Yet one eve, when softly sighing
Summer breezes lulled the rose,
I beheld her, fainting, dying,
I beheld her dim eyes close.
Ah, how living, fraught with woe,
Rise the sights of long ago!
Yet amid my sore dejection
Comes the comfort ever new—
Comes the balm, the sweet reflection,
To each other we were true.
For some end God sendeth sorrow,
When that end is gained at last,
In the radiant heavenly morrow
We shall meet—all sorrow past.
There, no longer fraught with woe,
Rise the days of long ago.
Comes the comfort ever new—
Comes the balm, the sweet reflection,
To each other we were true.
For some end God sendeth sorrow,
When that end is gained at last,
In the radiant heavenly morrow
We shall meet—all sorrow past.
There, no longer fraught with woe,
Rise the days of long ago.
| The Poems of Mackenzie Bell | |