Feda with Other Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

At last one autumn evening they were come
Over the hills above their castle home;
Far down beneath the little tower glowed
In sunset, while he led the mule she rode,
And down the path the merry mule-bells rang;
And forth to meet them from the vine porch sprang
Anton, elate and eager,—and they met;
A splendid light of manhood, taller yet
Than Adrien, with his reckless Southern eyes
Gladdening with welcome, warming with surprise,
And that rich voice of his broke loud and strong,
With “welcome, sister, I have waited long
“And stayed pursuit,—and here at last you ride

“Into your silent realm at eventide.”—
And lightly from her seat she leapt and took
His hand and thanked him with a gentle look,
And Adrien watched his wonder and was proud.

Then up came old Annita, shrilling loud,
With “Blessed Santa Lucia, help my eyes!
“Is it God's angel come down from the skies?
“Or are they all such angels in your land?”
And womanly and quick to understand
She did her gentle service,—while no less
Grey Nanno smiled his willing helplessness.

There then they three took up the quiet life,
And all did homage to the young girl wife,
And watched and waited on her as a child,
Deeming it full repayment if she smiled.
And in the distant village homes her name
Was rumoured as a saint's, and when she came
Young mothers brought their youngest to be blessed,

And children crowded round to be caressed,
And the rough seamen whispered soft and low
Lest one forbidden word should overflow,
And there was something added to their days,
The touch of sympathy, the word of praise,
A better influence, a joy, a light;
Then Adrien knew that she had chosen right.

And most of all it gladdened him to see
How Anton learned to care for her, and she
Grew less afraid,—ere long that wistful face
Was grown the Psyche's, and he seemed to trace
Fair forms like hers among the wandering souls,
In Anton's Happy Isles; pale aureoles
Round just such waving hair, and they would sing
Together, and by such a little thing
At night if Anton whispered, “Lest she wake,”
He felt, he learns to love her for my sake.

So the days shortened, and long eves fell soon;
Still night by night, under the autumn moon,

They rowed on the calm waters; she would bring
A lute that Anton strung for her, and sing
Song after song when all the world was still,
Only the oars would plash, and hill to hill
Repeat the air in echoes; then it seemed
That life was sweet as ever poet dreamed
In present gladness, with the skies profound,
Star-lovely, over them, and all around
Ripple of water, sea's breath, and sweet sound.