Feda with Other Poems Chiefly Lyrical. By Rennell Rodd ... With an Etching by Harper Pennington |
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A NOCTURNE OF CHOPIN. |
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 | Feda with Other Poems |  |
153
A NOCTURNE OF CHOPIN.
Gusts of the night-wind, loud and loud,
Flickering lights on a friendless plain,
Dimmed and lost in the driving rain,
Starless revel of storm and cloud,
Dark tree-lines on the ridge before,
Steeps to climb with a weary will,
And ridges beyond and o'er and o'er—
Peace, be still!
Stedfast yet through the rack o'erhead
Gleams the moon in her ring of red,
Far away where the earth-storms cease;
Far in the quiet, calmly there,
Gleams the moon like a dream of peace,
Someday, somewhere!
Flickering lights on a friendless plain,
Dimmed and lost in the driving rain,
Starless revel of storm and cloud,
Dark tree-lines on the ridge before,
Steeps to climb with a weary will,
And ridges beyond and o'er and o'er—
Peace, be still!
Stedfast yet through the rack o'erhead
Gleams the moon in her ring of red,
Far away where the earth-storms cease;
Far in the quiet, calmly there,
Gleams the moon like a dream of peace,
Someday, somewhere!
Faces, faces, wandering past,
Never the face that by sea or shore
Sought for ever I see no more,—
Loveless faces, leaves in the blast!
Night is dark and it's long till day—
These are the lips that kiss to kill,
And they whisper low and they smile alway—
Peace, be still!
Clear and true in my heart I know
Smiles the face that I long for so,
Whispers low, till the exile cease,—
Surely I wait thee, surely there,
Where the wandering feet shall rest in peace,
Someday, somewhere!
Never the face that by sea or shore
Sought for ever I see no more,—
Loveless faces, leaves in the blast!
Night is dark and it's long till day—
These are the lips that kiss to kill,
154
Peace, be still!
Clear and true in my heart I know
Smiles the face that I long for so,
Whispers low, till the exile cease,—
Surely I wait thee, surely there,
Where the wandering feet shall rest in peace,
Someday, somewhere!
What is it, ever I hear you say,
Mocking echo that would seem true?
Hope, is there any for me and you?
How should I see you hidden away
Dead and buried and long ago?
Only night-mists grey and chill,
Only the drowning storm-winds blow,—
Peace, be still!
Over the world's voice clear and true
Wins the soul of a voice I knew;
Wins and wins till the storm-throes cease;
Surely I wait thee, surely there,
Where the night of doubt has a dawn of peace,
Someday, somewhere!
Mocking echo that would seem true?
Hope, is there any for me and you?
How should I see you hidden away
Dead and buried and long ago?
Only night-mists grey and chill,
Only the drowning storm-winds blow,—
Peace, be still!
Over the world's voice clear and true
Wins the soul of a voice I knew;
Wins and wins till the storm-throes cease;
Surely I wait thee, surely there,
Where the night of doubt has a dawn of peace,
Someday, somewhere!
| Feda with Other Poems | |