 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
419
MY SWEETEST HEART.
(Cordatus Homo to Cor Cordium.)
I lived and loved, as other men,
And snatched from blooming hours
The dew, with pageant and with pen,
That sprinkled earth with flowers;
I deemed each world was only wrought for me,
In frolic feast and play,
I at my passing pleasure bade it be,
Then lightly cast away;
For I had never found as yet,
In revel round or art,
The sun that risen cannot set—
My Sweetest Heart.
And snatched from blooming hours
The dew, with pageant and with pen,
That sprinkled earth with flowers;
I deemed each world was only wrought for me,
In frolic feast and play,
I at my passing pleasure bade it be,
Then lightly cast away;
For I had never found as yet,
In revel round or art,
The sun that risen cannot set—
My Sweetest Heart.
From time to time, I fancied now,
As mirth a moment stayed,
The one I wanted heard my vow,
Desired and long delayed;
But when I held her in my amorous arms,
And looked into her eyes,
I found the foreign touch of fleshly charms
The blue of alien skies;
Not her I hardly felt I missed,
My best and brightest part,
Whom in wild vision once I kissed—
My Sweetest Heart.
As mirth a moment stayed,
The one I wanted heard my vow,
Desired and long delayed;
But when I held her in my amorous arms,
And looked into her eyes,
I found the foreign touch of fleshly charms
The blue of alien skies;
Not her I hardly felt I missed,
My best and brightest part,
Whom in wild vision once I kissed—
My Sweetest Heart.
And still I wandered over earth,
From country unto town,
To gain within a growing dearth,
Without a darkening frown;
I danced and sang, as other idlers did,
And winged the wicked jest,
Or gambled careless on the coffin lid,
If it was gaily drest;
I brushed the bloom from Siren's mouth
And bought on sunny mart,
But met not in the mocking South,
My Sweetest Heart.
From country unto town,
To gain within a growing dearth,
Without a darkening frown;
I danced and sang, as other idlers did,
And winged the wicked jest,
Or gambled careless on the coffin lid,
If it was gaily drest;
I brushed the bloom from Siren's mouth
And bought on sunny mart,
But met not in the mocking South,
My Sweetest Heart.
And on my devious footsteps strayed
By mountain, stream, and moor,
With riband, rose, and love I played,
And kittens knew my door;
Yes, pretty pussy creatures, flounced and furred,
That only owned my laws,
Fawned fair and wanton round, and, though they purred,
Betrayed their cruel claws;
And rattled on the iron road,
Or in the reckless cart,
I lacked the helpmeet of my load—
My Sweetest Heart.
By mountain, stream, and moor,
With riband, rose, and love I played,
And kittens knew my door;
Yes, pretty pussy creatures, flounced and furred,
That only owned my laws,
Fawned fair and wanton round, and, though they purred,
Betrayed their cruel claws;
420
Or in the reckless cart,
I lacked the helpmeet of my load—
My Sweetest Heart.
It was not out of palace hall,
Nor in the purple clad,
At length she hearkened to the call,
No woman ever had;
It was not where the gilded laughing tide
Of fashion, through the park,
Or stately temples in their pillared pride,
Goes down into the dark;
But where I lay in sickness bound,
And pierced with deadly dart,
In shadow great and grim I found
My Sweetest Heart.
Nor in the purple clad,
At length she hearkened to the call,
No woman ever had;
It was not where the gilded laughing tide
Of fashion, through the park,
Or stately temples in their pillared pride,
Goes down into the dark;
But where I lay in sickness bound,
And pierced with deadly dart,
In shadow great and grim I found
My Sweetest Heart.
It was not when my fortune seemed
Bright as the Indian ray,
And glorious life I fondly deemed
One endless holiday;
It was not when rejoicing radiant youth
Drank in the liberal air,
And, far from thunderous wings of things uncouth,
Belonged to all things fair;
It was not then the maiden came,
But in the burning smart,
Stept out of the black furnace flame,
My Sweetest Heart.
Bright as the Indian ray,
And glorious life I fondly deemed
One endless holiday;
It was not when rejoicing radiant youth
Drank in the liberal air,
And, far from thunderous wings of things uncouth,
Belonged to all things fair;
It was not then the maiden came,
But in the burning smart,
Stept out of the black furnace flame,
My Sweetest Heart.
When life was at his lowest dregs,
And horror mixed my mind
With phantoms, as a world that begs
The rest it cannot find;
O then in woman's more than human love,
She came with angel hand,
And from the noisome night raised me above,
To her own wonderland;
When Eden's sweet forbidden fruit
Had bitter turned and tart,
Uncalled she heard the silent suit,
My Sweetest Heart.
And horror mixed my mind
With phantoms, as a world that begs
The rest it cannot find;
O then in woman's more than human love,
She came with angel hand,
And from the noisome night raised me above,
To her own wonderland;
When Eden's sweet forbidden fruit
Had bitter turned and tart,
Uncalled she heard the silent suit,
My Sweetest Heart.
And now, though stript of every prize,
That folly reckons dear,
I walk for ever under skies
With summer all the year;
I seek in crowds no longer dark and lone,
To find my demon there,
And read a revelation in each stone,
While Heaven is everywhere;
My life, that withered looked and mean,
Has made a stronger start,
Because that life on her I lean—
My Sweetest Heart.
That folly reckons dear,
I walk for ever under skies
With summer all the year;
I seek in crowds no longer dark and lone,
To find my demon there,
And read a revelation in each stone,
While Heaven is everywhere;
421
Has made a stronger start,
Because that life on her I lean—
My Sweetest Heart.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |