Poems by Violet Fane [i.e. M. M. Lamb] With Portrait engraved by E. Stodart ... in two volumes |
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 | Poems by Violet Fane [i.e. M. M. Lamb] |  |
54
NOW.
Toys, tears, and kisses—then a few more tears—
This is the burden of the changing years,—
And after,—should our journey reach as far,—
The land where neither toys nor kisses are,
And further still, the loveless, listless years,
Too cold for kissing and too tired for tears,
(Ah, spare me these!) and then, a dawning Day
Or closing Night? Alas, we cannot say!
This is the burden of the changing years,—
And after,—should our journey reach as far,—
The land where neither toys nor kisses are,
And further still, the loveless, listless years,
Too cold for kissing and too tired for tears,
(Ah, spare me these!) and then, a dawning Day
Or closing Night? Alas, we cannot say!
My toys are broken now, and all put by—
My Queen of dolls is now a Queen no more,—
Or lost, or litter'd on the dusty floor
In some forsaken lumber-room they lie.
My Queen of dolls is now a Queen no more,—
Or lost, or litter'd on the dusty floor
In some forsaken lumber-room they lie.
My toys are gone, but still I have my tears,—
These linger with us for a longer while—
Yet whilst I weep, I know that I can smile—
I smile and weep, maybe, some few short years;
These linger with us for a longer while—
Yet whilst I weep, I know that I can smile—
I smile and weep, maybe, some few short years;
55
I have reach'd kissing; here my steps are slow,
So pleasant seems the pathway with its flow'rs—
A few more kisses for a few more hours,
And then I reach a land I do not know.
So pleasant seems the pathway with its flow'rs—
A few more kisses for a few more hours,
And then I reach a land I do not know.
For I have only travell'd yet as far
As where the roses and the kisses cling,
And I can only dream of these, and sing
Of such as these, well knowing what they are!
As where the roses and the kisses cling,
And I can only dream of these, and sing
Of such as these, well knowing what they are!
Anon my heart may warm to colder things,
But now I mark with half-unconscious eye
The current of events that rushes by,
Upraising Empires and dethroning kings.
But now I mark with half-unconscious eye
The current of events that rushes by,
Upraising Empires and dethroning kings.
Oh, linger long, ye glad unfetter'd hours!
How far the sun-glow spreads I cannot say,
I feel it warm within my heart to-day,
I see the pathway blinded with its flow'rs!
How far the sun-glow spreads I cannot say,
I feel it warm within my heart to-day,
I see the pathway blinded with its flow'rs!
Then let me sing the glories of these days,
Let those who follow me, or go before,
Tell of the country they are passing o'er,
I know not now the pleasure of their ways!
Let those who follow me, or go before,
Tell of the country they are passing o'er,
I know not now the pleasure of their ways!
56
Oh, sweet green garden in this life of man!
Oh, Youth! Oh, Love! Ah, hasten not away;
Ye pass before my voice can murmur “Stay!”
A star, set in the lifetime of a span!
Oh, Youth! Oh, Love! Ah, hasten not away;
Ye pass before my voice can murmur “Stay!”
A star, set in the lifetime of a span!
Yes, almost ere this ink of mine is dry,
Whilst yet this scroll seems warmer from my hand,
The restless atoms of appointed sand
Have trembled through the hour-glass, and we die!
Whilst yet this scroll seems warmer from my hand,
The restless atoms of appointed sand
Have trembled through the hour-glass, and we die!
These written words, these thoughts of Life and Death,
These few sad rhymes I write to Love and you,—
These all,—what are they? and my loving too?
A little incense, rising like a breath!
These few sad rhymes I write to Love and you,—
These all,—what are they? and my loving too?
A little incense, rising like a breath!
Yet take it! Ah, and if in after years
This page, then long forgotten, meets your eye,
Think once on her, before you lay it by,
Who gave you all her kisses and her tears!
This page, then long forgotten, meets your eye,
Think once on her, before you lay it by,
Who gave you all her kisses and her tears!
| Poems by Violet Fane [i.e. M. M. Lamb] | |