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LOVE'S RESURRECTION SONG. |
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 | The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston |  |
268
LOVE'S RESURRECTION SONG.
I made a grave for dead Love to lie in;
And I dug it deep in a grassy place,
With trees above it for winds to sigh in,
Or birds to make song in through blithe Spring days.
And I dug it deep in a grassy place,
With trees above it for winds to sigh in,
Or birds to make song in through blithe Spring days.
Then I stretched myself on the grave in sorrow,
Remembering Love, and how fair was he;
Yesterday poisoned the thought of the morrow,
The blank morrow, in which no Love should be.
Remembering Love, and how fair was he;
Yesterday poisoned the thought of the morrow,
The blank morrow, in which no Love should be.
And I cried, “O Love, thou wert full of splendor
And pomp and dominion but yesterday,
Thy voice was kind and thine eyes were tender;
But all, now, all, has been taken away.
And pomp and dominion but yesterday,
Thy voice was kind and thine eyes were tender;
But all, now, all, has been taken away.
“Love, canst thou hear?” But the wind moaned only,—
Only the grass on Love's grave was stirred;
In the trees above sang, faint and lonely,
One sad, little, bright-eyed, unmated bird.
Only the grass on Love's grave was stirred;
In the trees above sang, faint and lonely,
One sad, little, bright-eyed, unmated bird.
The twilight fell as I lay and wept there;
And dew dropped silently, wetting my face;
Alone my weary vigil I kept there,
Till the moon arose in its placid grace:
And dew dropped silently, wetting my face;
Alone my weary vigil I kept there,
Till the moon arose in its placid grace:
And the air was charged with her benediction;
And my desolate heart was soothed and filled
With a spirit of some divine prediction,—
And suddenly all my weeping was stilled.
And my desolate heart was soothed and filled
With a spirit of some divine prediction,—
And suddenly all my weeping was stilled.
Then I beheld, in the moonlight tender,
A presence more bright than the moon's pale fire;
For there stood Love, with increase of splendor,
And my heart was made one with my heart's desire.
A presence more bright than the moon's pale fire;
For there stood Love, with increase of splendor,
And my heart was made one with my heart's desire.
| The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | |