Poems by Violet Fane [i.e. M. M. Lamb] With Portrait engraved by E. Stodart ... in two volumes |
 | 1. |
| 1872. EARLY POEMS. |
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| 2. |
 | Poems by Violet Fane [i.e. M. M. Lamb] |  |
1
1872. EARLY POEMS.
2
------To sit alone
And think for comfort how, that very night,
Affianced lovers, leaning face to face,
With sweet half listenings for each other's breath,
Are reading haply from a page of ours,
To pause with a thrill (as if their cheeks had touch'd)
When such a stanza, level to their mood,
Seems floating their own thought out—“So I feel
For thee—and I for thee.”------
Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
And think for comfort how, that very night,
Affianced lovers, leaning face to face,
With sweet half listenings for each other's breath,
Are reading haply from a page of ours,
To pause with a thrill (as if their cheeks had touch'd)
When such a stanza, level to their mood,
Seems floating their own thought out—“So I feel
For thee—and I for thee.”------
Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
3
TO HIM.
I dedicate these few poor lines to Him,—
Love of my Life! Dearest of my desires!—
The one who kindled in my breast those fires
Which neither time nor tide can dull or dim.
Love of my Life! Dearest of my desires!—
The one who kindled in my breast those fires
Which neither time nor tide can dull or dim.
Some written in the dew of earlier tears
Than longings for his love have caused to flow,
And others written in the sunny glow
Of years which he has bless'd,—thrice happy years!
Than longings for his love have caused to flow,
And others written in the sunny glow
Of years which he has bless'd,—thrice happy years!
I give Him not alone the thoughts I frame,
With them, the erring heart from which they sprung,
And all the dearest accents that my tongue
Can kiss into the music of His name!
With them, the erring heart from which they sprung,
And all the dearest accents that my tongue
Can kiss into the music of His name!
Oh, could I write out on a golden scroll
The essence of my being! I would then
Leave but my hollow shell for other men,
And give Him, with my Life and Love,—my Soul!
The essence of my being! I would then
Leave but my hollow shell for other men,
And give Him, with my Life and Love,—my Soul!
4
WRITTEN ON SAND.
I wrote upon the shining sands
The name that I loved the best,
Ere I saw the sun, in a glow of light,
Sink down in the distant West.
The name that I loved the best,
Ere I saw the sun, in a glow of light,
Sink down in the distant West.
Then the wild sea-breeze blew loud and shrill,
Yet I linger'd by the shore,
Till the waves crept over the written word,
And I saw that name no more.
Yet I linger'd by the shore,
Till the waves crept over the written word,
And I saw that name no more.
And tho' it was only a written word,
Yet I would that it had stay'd,
For I learnt a lesson true and sad,
As I watch'd those letters fade;
Yet I would that it had stay'd,
For I learnt a lesson true and sad,
As I watch'd those letters fade;
And I wonder'd if there were a land,—
A far-off heav'nly place,—
Where the letters traced on the heart's warm sand,
Time's waves would not efface!
A far-off heav'nly place,—
Where the letters traced on the heart's warm sand,
Time's waves would not efface!
5
“OH, SING THAT SONG YOU SANG BEFORE!”
Oh, sing that song you sang before
When Life seem'd bright and fair!
Before the mem'ries and the tears
Of alter'd times and after years
Had risen bleak and bare;
When Life seem'd bright and fair!
Before the mem'ries and the tears
Of alter'd times and after years
Had risen bleak and bare;
And like a wall, between our hearts
Had shut out Hope and Truth,
And tinged the brightest years of Life
With darker thoughts, and keener strife,
Than well became our youth!
Had shut out Hope and Truth,
And tinged the brightest years of Life
With darker thoughts, and keener strife,
Than well became our youth!
Oh, sing that song you sang before,
And as its notes shall ring
I'll close my eyes and dream once more
That I am as I was of yore
When last I heard you sing!
And as its notes shall ring
I'll close my eyes and dream once more
That I am as I was of yore
When last I heard you sing!
6
“SPEAK OF THE PAST.”
Speak of the Past, for ever flown,
It is not often that we may;
Thy words seem like stray blossoms blown
From those dead flow'rs of yesterday,
Or like the feathers from the wings
Of angels that have pass'd away!
It is not often that we may;
Thy words seem like stray blossoms blown
From those dead flow'rs of yesterday,
Or like the feathers from the wings
Of angels that have pass'd away!
To dream on what was but a dream,
To wait and watch, in vain, in vain!
To long in darkness for a beam
Of that past hope which now is slain;
To look and long, to watch and pray,
For that which cannot be again;
To wait and watch, in vain, in vain!
To long in darkness for a beam
Of that past hope which now is slain;
To look and long, to watch and pray,
For that which cannot be again;
This is the madness of my soul,
Thy love can never reach as far,
There are two halves in every whole,
But these, in Love, unequal are;
And when I know how great is mine,
I feel, perforce, how small is thine!
Thy love can never reach as far,
There are two halves in every whole,
But these, in Love, unequal are;
And when I know how great is mine,
I feel, perforce, how small is thine!
7
“FOR EVER AND FOR EVER!”
I think of all thou art to me,
I dream of what thou canst not be;
My life is curst with thoughts of thee
For ever and for ever!
I dream of what thou canst not be;
My life is curst with thoughts of thee
For ever and for ever!
My heart is full of grief and woe,
I see thy face where'er I go;
I would, alas! it were not so
For ever and for ever!
I see thy face where'er I go;
I would, alas! it were not so
For ever and for ever!
Perchance if we had never met,
I had been spared this mad regret,
This endless striving to forget,
For ever and for ever!
I had been spared this mad regret,
This endless striving to forget,
For ever and for ever!
Perchance if thou wert far away,
Did I not see thee day by day,
I might again be blithe and gay,
For ever and for ever!
Did I not see thee day by day,
I might again be blithe and gay,
For ever and for ever!
8
Ah, no! I could not bear the pain
Of never seeing thee again!
I cling to thee with might and main,
For ever and for ever!
Of never seeing thee again!
I cling to thee with might and main,
For ever and for ever!
Ah, leave me not! I love but thee!
Blessing or curse, which e'er thou be,
Oh, be as thou hast been to me,
For ever and for ever!
Blessing or curse, which e'er thou be,
Oh, be as thou hast been to me,
For ever and for ever!
9
THE SECRET.
The words I dare not tell to thee,
To Earth and Sky, to flow'r and tree,
I softly breathe: the Summer's shine
Has warm'd those whisper'd words of mine,
The Winter's snow, the Autumn's blast,
Have guess'd my secret as they pass'd;
The sparkling waves of tideless seas
Have learnt it of the murmuring breeze;
Yet all unchanged,—no Summer glow
E'er thaw'd thy breast, oh, Winter Snow!
At those warm words! Oh, sunny sea!
Thou art as thou were wont to be!
Thy fickle wavelets kiss the shore,
Then lose themselves for evermore.
The blast unheeding, hurries by,
No meteor flashes through the sky,
As, leaning from my casement's height,
I tell my Secret to the Night.
To Earth and Sky, to flow'r and tree,
I softly breathe: the Summer's shine
Has warm'd those whisper'd words of mine,
The Winter's snow, the Autumn's blast,
Have guess'd my secret as they pass'd;
The sparkling waves of tideless seas
Have learnt it of the murmuring breeze;
Yet all unchanged,—no Summer glow
E'er thaw'd thy breast, oh, Winter Snow!
At those warm words! Oh, sunny sea!
Thou art as thou were wont to be!
Thy fickle wavelets kiss the shore,
Then lose themselves for evermore.
The blast unheeding, hurries by,
No meteor flashes through the sky,
As, leaning from my casement's height,
I tell my Secret to the Night.
10
Oh, if, like Nature, all unmoved,
Thou, too, couldst learn how thou wert loved,
If what thy heart may long have guess'd
Raised no emotion in thy breast
But that felt by the wanton child
Who breaks the toy on which it smiled;
If, having gain'd it, this poor prize
Should seem the poorer in thine eyes,
And grow more worthless worn and won,—
Then am I right to breathe to none
Save Earth and Sea, and Sky above me,
The words, “I love thee, oh, I love thee!”
Thou, too, couldst learn how thou wert loved,
If what thy heart may long have guess'd
Raised no emotion in thy breast
But that felt by the wanton child
Who breaks the toy on which it smiled;
If, having gain'd it, this poor prize
Should seem the poorer in thine eyes,
And grow more worthless worn and won,—
Then am I right to breathe to none
Save Earth and Sea, and Sky above me,
The words, “I love thee, oh, I love thee!”
11
A THOUGHT.
At night, as lying half awake
I muse upon my soul's desire,
Out of the embers of the fire
There seems to glide a glitt'ring snake.
I muse upon my soul's desire,
Out of the embers of the fire
There seems to glide a glitt'ring snake.
Sucking my life, with poisonous hate
That serpent coils till morning's rise,
And whispers, “On his bosom lies
A dearer form—a warmer weight.”
That serpent coils till morning's rise,
And whispers, “On his bosom lies
A dearer form—a warmer weight.”
Oh, if from coiling near my heart
That viper would become my friend!
If its soft gliding tongue would end
This aching wound from which I smart;
That viper would become my friend!
If its soft gliding tongue would end
This aching wound from which I smart;
Then I would call it by some name,
Love or Despair (which would be best?)—
And pressing it unto my breast
Would fondle it, and make it tame!
Love or Despair (which would be best?)—
And pressing it unto my breast
Would fondle it, and make it tame!
12
BURNING LETTERS.
Burn, burn, oh, burning letters!
Alas! and as ye fade away,
So shall the love that once inspired you,
So shall the heart that once desired you,
Before the breath of Time decay!
Alas! and as ye fade away,
So shall the love that once inspired you,
So shall the heart that once desired you,
Before the breath of Time decay!
Oh, words that have been warm'd with kisses!
Oh, words that have been wet with tears!
Oh, words that have been bless'd and cherish'd!
What will remain, when ye have perish'd,
To light me in the coming years?
Oh, words that have been wet with tears!
Oh, words that have been bless'd and cherish'd!
What will remain, when ye have perish'd,
To light me in the coming years?
How shall I know my darling loved me,
Oh, by what sign, since kisses die?
Since lips grow silent, and cold faces
Learn to forget the burning traces
Of love which has been long put by?
Oh, by what sign, since kisses die?
Since lips grow silent, and cold faces
Learn to forget the burning traces
Of love which has been long put by?
13
Oh, dear blue eyes that I have lived for!
You look'd upon this written line!
Oh, hands that traced these tender phrases,
Oh, lips that once could sing my praises,
How fondly you have clung to mine!
You look'd upon this written line!
Oh, hands that traced these tender phrases,
Oh, lips that once could sing my praises,
How fondly you have clung to mine!
How can I burn what he has written,
What I so long have hidden here?
How can I banish thus completely
All these dear words, which sound so sweetly,
All these sweet names, which are so dear?
What I so long have hidden here?
How can I banish thus completely
All these dear words, which sound so sweetly,
All these sweet names, which are so dear?
Yet oh, 'tis better they should burn now,
Whilst his warm heart still beats for me,
Than that, upon some dark to-morrow,
I should gaze on them, in my sorrow,
And say, “These words are warm—not he!”
Whilst his warm heart still beats for me,
Than that, upon some dark to-morrow,
I should gaze on them, in my sorrow,
And say, “These words are warm—not he!”
For though I would for ever cherish
Each word that he could write or say,
I would not that these letters only
Should be the sad memorials lonely
Of something that had pass'd away;
Each word that he could write or say,
I would not that these letters only
Should be the sad memorials lonely
Of something that had pass'd away;
14
I would not read the words I loved so,
Knowing their meaning gone and dead,
A bitter mockery of pleasure,
The echo of a joyful measure
After the melody had fled!
Knowing their meaning gone and dead,
A bitter mockery of pleasure,
The echo of a joyful measure
After the melody had fled!
Then, whilst I still can hope he loves me,
Then, whilst his love may last, I pray,
As warm, as passionate, as this is,
Go! wet with tears, go! warm with kisses,
Into the flames, and fade away!
Then, whilst his love may last, I pray,
As warm, as passionate, as this is,
Go! wet with tears, go! warm with kisses,
Into the flames, and fade away!
15
HIS NAME.
Oh, for some new-coin'd name by which to call him!
Oh, for some name no other lips can give!
“Love” has been said by those who loved so coldly,
“Life” has been said by those who could not live!
Oh, for some name no other lips can give!
“Love” has been said by those who loved so coldly,
“Life” has been said by those who could not live!
“Darling,” the sweetest name without a meaning,—
“Soul,” often said to many a soulless thing,—
“Dearest,” to that which is not always dearest,
“Treasure,” to what is not worth treasuring!
“Soul,” often said to many a soulless thing,—
“Dearest,” to that which is not always dearest,
“Treasure,” to what is not worth treasuring!
Oh, I would have his new-found name mean “Beauty,”
And I would have his new-found name mean “Love,”
And I would have it also mean “For ever,”
While there is Earth beneath and Heav'n above!
And I would have his new-found name mean “Love,”
And I would have it also mean “For ever,”
While there is Earth beneath and Heav'n above!
And I would have it also mean “a Blessing,”
And I would have it also mean “a Shrine,”
And I would have it also mean “a Longing,”
And it must also mean that he is mine!
And I would have it also mean “a Shrine,”
And I would have it also mean “a Longing,”
And it must also mean that he is mine!
16
And I would have it also mean “my Idol,”
And I would have it also mean “my breath,”
Life of the very life I live and breathe from,
Soul, that will even warm my very death!
And I would have it also mean “my breath,”
Life of the very life I live and breathe from,
Soul, that will even warm my very death!
Where shall I find this magic name to give him?
How shall I learn to spell this hidden word?
Oh, shall I find it cradled on the zephyr?
Or lurking in the wood-notes of the bird?
How shall I learn to spell this hidden word?
Oh, shall I find it cradled on the zephyr?
Or lurking in the wood-notes of the bird?
Or, far away, where yonder pink horizon
Lures on the night with many a golden streak,
There, whisper'd in the clear-toned notes of Angels,
Oh, some day, shall I find the name I seek?
Lures on the night with many a golden streak,
There, whisper'd in the clear-toned notes of Angels,
Oh, some day, shall I find the name I seek?
17
THE COQUETTE.
I listen'd, scarcely knowing that I listen'd,
It nestled in my unsuspecting breast;
I mark'd its plumage fair, its eyes that glisten'd,
And smooth'd with careless hand its golden crest;
I call'd it now a curse, and now a blessing,—
I fondled it, I tortured and caress'd,
Till, wearied of my teasing and caressing,
It flew away, and yet I never guess'd! . . .
It nestled in my unsuspecting breast;
I mark'd its plumage fair, its eyes that glisten'd,
And smooth'd with careless hand its golden crest;
I call'd it now a curse, and now a blessing,—
I fondled it, I tortured and caress'd,
Till, wearied of my teasing and caressing,
It flew away, and yet I never guess'd! . . .
It flew away, and as I watch'd it flying,
And saw its pinions fluttering above,
I stretch'd my arms towards it, wildly crying
“Return! and be again my captive dove!”
But from its gentle voice came no replying,
In vain to lure it back to me I strove,
And all the voices of my heart are sighing,
“Ah, it was Love!”
And saw its pinions fluttering above,
I stretch'd my arms towards it, wildly crying
“Return! and be again my captive dove!”
But from its gentle voice came no replying,
In vain to lure it back to me I strove,
And all the voices of my heart are sighing,
“Ah, it was Love!”
18
“I LIVE MY LIFE AWAY FROM THEE!”
As the sad sighing of the wind that blows
Outside the windows that we firmly close
Against its breath, or as the distant sea
Murmurs afar, and is not always heard
But only when no louder sound is stirr'd,
So, under all, through all, my being flows
This song, “I live my life away from thee!”
Outside the windows that we firmly close
Against its breath, or as the distant sea
Murmurs afar, and is not always heard
But only when no louder sound is stirr'd,
So, under all, through all, my being flows
This song, “I live my life away from thee!”
What matter, if the years bring good or ill?
What can they hope, who ever hope on still
Against all Hope? And after Hope is dead?
Oh, lost, lost, Love! Oh, bitterer than this
Love I have known,—Love I have loved to kiss
Yet cannot hold! Love, I have loved my fill
Yet thirst for now! What shall I love instead?
What can they hope, who ever hope on still
Against all Hope? And after Hope is dead?
Oh, lost, lost, Love! Oh, bitterer than this
Love I have known,—Love I have loved to kiss
Yet cannot hold! Love, I have loved my fill
Yet thirst for now! What shall I love instead?
19
Oh, Love! oh, Life! will it be always so,
Through my whole life, and wheresoe'er I go?
Oh, how so fair the sights that I may see,
What will they profit me? Thou art not here,
And ever, ever, ringing in mine ear
I seem to hear, in accents sad and low,
The words, “I live my life away from thee!”
Through my whole life, and wheresoe'er I go?
Oh, how so fair the sights that I may see,
What will they profit me? Thou art not here,
And ever, ever, ringing in mine ear
I seem to hear, in accents sad and low,
The words, “I live my life away from thee!”
What takes his place that is worth harbouring,
Love the Immortal! Love, the only King
Time, the great leveller, can ne'er dethrone?
What may we clasp, whose arms have closed on him
Who can rule soul, and breath, and life, and limb?
What other leader is worth following?
Who can know other loves, him having known?
Love the Immortal! Love, the only King
Time, the great leveller, can ne'er dethrone?
What may we clasp, whose arms have closed on him
Who can rule soul, and breath, and life, and limb?
What other leader is worth following?
Who can know other loves, him having known?
Oh, in the sea of such a dear delight
Let me be buried deep and out of sight!
Drown'd in the waters of that sweet warm sea,
Clinging to lips that living, I may lose,
Dying the happy death that I would choose
Were it e'en given us to die aright!
But ah! “I die my death away from thee!”
Let me be buried deep and out of sight!
Drown'd in the waters of that sweet warm sea,
Clinging to lips that living, I may lose,
Dying the happy death that I would choose
Were it e'en given us to die aright!
But ah! “I die my death away from thee!”
20
Because most seeming loves are calm and cold,
Bought for a song, and all as lightly sold,
Let not the ones who know Love as he is
Fling him away! Of all that has been given,
Love is the gift that brings us nearer Heaven
Than any other gift the world can hold,
And perfect Love is nearest perfect bliss.
Bought for a song, and all as lightly sold,
Let not the ones who know Love as he is
Fling him away! Of all that has been given,
Love is the gift that brings us nearer Heaven
Than any other gift the world can hold,
And perfect Love is nearest perfect bliss.
Then let me lose myself in his sweet ways,
Or let me die, before these golden days
Die, or the pleasure of them dies in me!
Oh, sweet were death, if only, half in death,
I could but silence that sad, sighing breath,
That even then, I fear me, would upraise
The wail, “I live and die away from thee!”
Or let me die, before these golden days
Die, or the pleasure of them dies in me!
Oh, sweet were death, if only, half in death,
I could but silence that sad, sighing breath,
That even then, I fear me, would upraise
The wail, “I live and die away from thee!”
21
NEW YEAR'S DAY.
1871.
As, in a month, alternate days
Are bright with sun, or dark with storm,
As some are chill, and some are warm
With southern winds, and sunny rays—
Are bright with sun, or dark with storm,
As some are chill, and some are warm
With southern winds, and sunny rays—
So, in men's lives, the changing years
Bring mirth or sorrow, joy or pain,
Some heralded with merry strain,
Some with a passing-bell, and tears;
Bring mirth or sorrow, joy or pain,
Some heralded with merry strain,
Some with a passing-bell, and tears;
But as those years, that now are gone
With drooping heads, and folded wings,
Into the dusk of bygone things,
Resembled not this new-fled one—
With drooping heads, and folded wings,
Into the dusk of bygone things,
Resembled not this new-fled one—
So, to the hearts that now are sad,
May come new hopes of joy and peace,
So, to the gay, fears lest they cease
Those joys that made the past year glad!
May come new hopes of joy and peace,
So, to the gay, fears lest they cease
Those joys that made the past year glad!
22
To thee and me, the uncoin'd hour
May bring a world of change unguess'd
(Save to that love, which in my breast
Blooms like some fair immortal flow'r).
May bring a world of change unguess'd
(Save to that love, which in my breast
Blooms like some fair immortal flow'r).
For thee I wish each coming day
May bring upon its bosom fair
Some hidden blessing, and that care
At its light step may haste away!
May bring upon its bosom fair
Some hidden blessing, and that care
At its light step may haste away!
And as for me, no greater bliss
I ask of Time, than that he may
Bring thy heart nearer mine each day,
And my lips nearer to thy kiss!
I ask of Time, than that he may
Bring thy heart nearer mine each day,
And my lips nearer to thy kiss!
Or, if, to both, the coming years
Are bound in equal share to bring
New pleasures, and new sorrowing,
Take thou the smiles, leave me the tears!
Are bound in equal share to bring
New pleasures, and new sorrowing,
Take thou the smiles, leave me the tears!
23
MY KING.
Of this poor heart you ask me who is King,
Since to your eyes so many seem to reign;
Alas! the kingdom is so small a thing
That, like the unaccepted throne of Spain,
Methought my little crown had gone unclaim'd,
Or scorn'd maybe, if I had ever named,
Who was the King.
Since to your eyes so many seem to reign;
Alas! the kingdom is so small a thing
That, like the unaccepted throne of Spain,
Methought my little crown had gone unclaim'd,
Or scorn'd maybe, if I had ever named,
Who was the King.
Both old and young pretenders oft have strove
To plant their alien banners and be King;
And all the hot artillery of love
With mad acclaim, has echo'd, thundering
Its perilous appeal through all my heart,
But of that stronghold, or its meanest part,
They were not King.
To plant their alien banners and be King;
And all the hot artillery of love
With mad acclaim, has echo'd, thundering
Its perilous appeal through all my heart,
But of that stronghold, or its meanest part,
They were not King.
24
Yet on that hidden throne a King is set,
A tyrant, a more arbitrary king
Than erst was Tudor or Plantagenet,
And to this rebel kingdom did he bring
Such dear destruction, such sweet sophistry,
That if it could it would not now be free
From such a King.
A tyrant, a more arbitrary king
Than erst was Tudor or Plantagenet,
And to this rebel kingdom did he bring
Such dear destruction, such sweet sophistry,
That if it could it would not now be free
From such a King.
At first it would not own his tender sway,
And feared to call the dear usurper King,
But all its trusted bulwarks broke away,
Where they had seem'd the strongest, and the ring
Of “Victory!” resounded through the air
Before the vanquish'd knew the foe was there,—
And he was King!
And feared to call the dear usurper King,
But all its trusted bulwarks broke away,
Where they had seem'd the strongest, and the ring
Of “Victory!” resounded through the air
Before the vanquish'd knew the foe was there,—
And he was King!
Oh! trebly crown'd as with a papal crown!
Of heart, and soul, and all my senses, King!
Giver of all the bliss my life has known!
Sharer of all worth my remembering!
Creator of so many thoughts and schemes,
Of this, my bond slave heart, and all its dreams
You are the King!
Of heart, and soul, and all my senses, King!
Giver of all the bliss my life has known!
Sharer of all worth my remembering!
Creator of so many thoughts and schemes,
Of this, my bond slave heart, and all its dreams
You are the King!
25
IN YEARS TO COME.
The years to come may sweep away
What now we prize, and turn to grey
This curly dark brown hair,
The years may dim these ardent eyes
And turn to tender memories
These moments that seem fair.
What now we prize, and turn to grey
This curly dark brown hair,
The years may dim these ardent eyes
And turn to tender memories
These moments that seem fair.
Yet, if they leave me still your kiss,
All else they steal I shall not miss,
And folded in your arms
The voice I love will sound as sweet
As now, whilst kneeling at my feet
You praise my youthful charms!
All else they steal I shall not miss,
And folded in your arms
The voice I love will sound as sweet
As now, whilst kneeling at my feet
You praise my youthful charms!
Our eyes may be too tired to read,
But book or pen we shall not need,
Since, echoing in each breast,
Will linger still the tender truth,
The history that in our youth
We used to love the best!
But book or pen we shall not need,
Since, echoing in each breast,
Will linger still the tender truth,
The history that in our youth
We used to love the best!
26
Then bless these moments ere they fade
(For, Curly Head, this song is made
For you and only you!)
And whilst your heart is young and light,
And whilst your hair is brown and bright,
And whilst your eyes are blue,
Lay up a store for future hours
Of fleeting love's departing flow'rs
Which I will treasure too!
(For, Curly Head, this song is made
For you and only you!)
And whilst your heart is young and light,
And whilst your hair is brown and bright,
And whilst your eyes are blue,
Lay up a store for future hours
Of fleeting love's departing flow'rs
Which I will treasure too!
27
SO LATE!
My happiness has come to me so late;
Had it come earlier, I had almost fear'd
That long ere this the thunderclouds had near'd,
Bearing some fatal bolt to compensate.
Had it come earlier, I had almost fear'd
That long ere this the thunderclouds had near'd,
Bearing some fatal bolt to compensate.
For, like those Indians, who, when joy is near,
Bow to the earth, and fear to be too glad,
Lest their offended god should make them sad,
So I, too bless'd by you, seem half to fear.
Bow to the earth, and fear to be too glad,
Lest their offended god should make them sad,
So I, too bless'd by you, seem half to fear.
But since my bliss has come to me so late,
I hope the while I fear, postponing yet
My dread anticipation of the debt,
That Love has made me feel I owe to Fate.
I hope the while I fear, postponing yet
My dread anticipation of the debt,
That Love has made me feel I owe to Fate.
28
LOVE IN WINTER.
The ground is white with driven snow,“How cold!” say they who do not know
For warmth and shelter where to go—
(I know! I know!)
Cling to me! Love me! Kiss me, so! . . .
And warmed by Love's delicious glow,
Forget that there is Death or snow!
29
“HE WILL NOT COME!”
He will not come! The dire deserted street
Is black and silent, save when, now and then,
The passing feet, alas, of other men,
Deceive my aching heart and make it beat,—
He will not come!
Is black and silent, save when, now and then,
The passing feet, alas, of other men,
Deceive my aching heart and make it beat,—
He will not come!
Ah, who is it that makes him break his tryst,
And almost her poor heart who waits him now,
Pressing against the window-pane the brow
And longing lips he has so often kissed? . . .
He will not come!
And almost her poor heart who waits him now,
Pressing against the window-pane the brow
And longing lips he has so often kissed? . . .
He will not come!
He will not come! . . . and somewhere, far away,
His ears may hear the echo of my moan,
His eyes may see me watching here alone,
His heart may guess my anguish as I say
“He will not come!”
His ears may hear the echo of my moan,
His eyes may see me watching here alone,
His heart may guess my anguish as I say
“He will not come!”
30
“He will not come!” the words are like a knell,
I drop the curtain that with hopeful hand,
I drew aside, yet linger where I stand,
All loth to bid his memory farewell,
He will not come!
I drop the curtain that with hopeful hand,
I drew aside, yet linger where I stand,
All loth to bid his memory farewell,
He will not come!
He will not come! ah, absent one, good night!
Good night, sad street, good night, dear shelt'ring tree;
Good night! good night! to all that breathes of thee;
One more last look—good night to love and light!
He will not come!
Good night, sad street, good night, dear shelt'ring tree;
Good night! good night! to all that breathes of thee;
One more last look—good night to love and light!
He will not come!
31
ON A GLOOMY DAY.
The year is past, and you and I
No longer tread life's path together,
And clouds are gathering in the sky,
That seem'd so bright in ev'ry weather!
No longer tread life's path together,
And clouds are gathering in the sky,
That seem'd so bright in ev'ry weather!
For, folded to my darling's breast,
I could not turn aside to know
If winds were blowing east or west,
Or clouds were dealing rain or snow!
I could not turn aside to know
If winds were blowing east or west,
Or clouds were dealing rain or snow!
I did not think of north or south,
I heeded not the angry skies,
But breathed my zephyrs from his mouth,
And saw my summer in his eyes!
I heeded not the angry skies,
But breathed my zephyrs from his mouth,
And saw my summer in his eyes!
Oh, near the heart that seem'd so warm,
I did not feel this chilling blast,
And I have smiled at rain and storm,
And mock'd the tempest as it past!
I did not feel this chilling blast,
And I have smiled at rain and storm,
And mock'd the tempest as it past!
32
But now, alas! I am alone,
And I can see the drifting rain,
And I have time to hear the moan
Of tempests that are here again.
And I can see the drifting rain,
And I have time to hear the moan
Of tempests that are here again.
Ah, you who plant my life with flow'rs,
And make all skies to seem so blue,
Come back to me and light the hours
That darken at the loss of you!
And make all skies to seem so blue,
Come back to me and light the hours
That darken at the loss of you!
Ah, could we end this weary strife,
And soul to soul, and heart to heart,
Be each the sunshine of the life,
That fate now bids us live apart,
And soul to soul, and heart to heart,
Be each the sunshine of the life,
That fate now bids us live apart,
Then might the ceaseless torrents pour,
And lightnings follow ev'ry kiss,
I should not fear the thunder's roar,
Or dread a day as dark as this!
And lightnings follow ev'ry kiss,
I should not fear the thunder's roar,
Or dread a day as dark as this!
33
MY RECORDS.
The words that are spoken are soon forgotten,
Music is played, and then dies in the air;
But all these my children—my soul-begotten,
Will live to me longer than tune or pray'r.
Music is played, and then dies in the air;
But all these my children—my soul-begotten,
Will live to me longer than tune or pray'r.
The lines that are written, and sealed, and treasured,
May breathe of too much, or may seem too cold,
Whilst these that are written, and rhymed, and measured,
Can tell far more tenderly what they have told.
May breathe of too much, or may seem too cold,
Whilst these that are written, and rhymed, and measured,
Can tell far more tenderly what they have told.
Ah, and far more plainly than old tunes playing,
And far more distinctly than pictured scroll,
These words that the voice of my heart is saying
Will bring my love of you back to my soul!
And far more distinctly than pictured scroll,
These words that the voice of my heart is saying
Will bring my love of you back to my soul!
In days that fear neither loving nor losing,
In days that are dawning or may not dawn,
The breath of my songs will keep from closing
The darkening curtains that Time has drawn.
In days that are dawning or may not dawn,
The breath of my songs will keep from closing
The darkening curtains that Time has drawn.
34
And from ev'ry page, like a faded blossom,
Whose colours are dimm'd, but whose fragrance clings,
These written words that once lived in my bosom,
Will tell their old home of departed things;
Whose colours are dimm'd, but whose fragrance clings,
These written words that once lived in my bosom,
Will tell their old home of departed things;
Till out of the Past, as I gaze in sorrow
On records of love that was loved in vain,
The dream of my youth, in that dim to-morrow,
Will seem to come back to my arms again!
On records of love that was loved in vain,
The dream of my youth, in that dim to-morrow,
Will seem to come back to my arms again!
35
LONDON.
I like to think that when your love has waned
London will still stand on, and be to me
The noisy echo of your silent voice!
I like to think of all the streets and squares
Where once your shadow fell, or did not fall
When I have watch'd for it!
London will still stand on, and be to me
The noisy echo of your silent voice!
I like to think of all the streets and squares
Where once your shadow fell, or did not fall
When I have watch'd for it!
Ah, woods and fields,
And forest-glades, will tell me much of you,
But Nature changes more than these dim walls
Into the which your memory seems built
To gild them, like a sunbeam, till they fall;
And far away from all those sylvan scenes
I cannot hear your laughter in the brook,
Or trace your pathway in the broken fern,
Whilst here a hundred dark and stone-paved ways
Re-echo to my heart the step of Love!
And forest-glades, will tell me much of you,
But Nature changes more than these dim walls
Into the which your memory seems built
To gild them, like a sunbeam, till they fall;
And far away from all those sylvan scenes
I cannot hear your laughter in the brook,
Or trace your pathway in the broken fern,
Whilst here a hundred dark and stone-paved ways
Re-echo to my heart the step of Love!
I like it to be thus, and often think
“Ah, here, or there, my heart will always beat
A little faster, e'en in after years;
Here is a spot my eyes will never see
Without in fancy seeing what they loved
Above all else!”
“Ah, here, or there, my heart will always beat
A little faster, e'en in after years;
36
Without in fancy seeing what they loved
Above all else!”
Ah, desolate to me
Will then seem all these many-peopled streets
As those of ancient cities, hid away
For thousand years beneath the lava-flood,
And brought to light when all their life has fled!
I hardly dare to think upon such days
Will then seem all these many-peopled streets
As those of ancient cities, hid away
For thousand years beneath the lava-flood,
And brought to light when all their life has fled!
Whilst yet the glamour of a rising sun
Makes all this mist seem mingled pink and gold;
But now and then a shiv'ring passing form,
And all the loveless looks of other men,
These tell me that, to many heavy hearts,
London is now a city of the dead,
Peopled with wanderers amongst the tombs!
To such as these I have not time to turn,
(My life is such a hey-day of delight!)
But, going to and fro, at morn and eve
Betwixt my happiness and my regret,
I meet these pallid forms and pass them by,
Yet after, conscience-like, they haunt my dreams,
And all the impotence of woman's life,
With all its small desires, and vain resolves,
And loves (maybe as vain!) like a reproach
These haunt me too!
(My life is such a hey-day of delight!)
But, going to and fro, at morn and eve
Betwixt my happiness and my regret,
I meet these pallid forms and pass them by,
Yet after, conscience-like, they haunt my dreams,
And all the impotence of woman's life,
With all its small desires, and vain resolves,
37
These haunt me too!
Oh, London, many-voiced!
Great city, where my love has lived and breathed,
Live on, and reign the dusky Queen of Towns!
Had this hand strength, thine unabolish'd wrongs
Had been redress'd, and all thy fever-fogs
Dispersed, as with a fairy's magic wand!
Live on, dear city! for my darling's sake,
Live on, when this poor voice is mute to bless
The heedless witness of my youth and love!
And bright as all thy streets seem now to me
Would they could be to all thy chequer'd world!
Great city, where my love has lived and breathed,
Live on, and reign the dusky Queen of Towns!
Had this hand strength, thine unabolish'd wrongs
Had been redress'd, and all thy fever-fogs
Dispersed, as with a fairy's magic wand!
Live on, dear city! for my darling's sake,
Live on, when this poor voice is mute to bless
The heedless witness of my youth and love!
And bright as all thy streets seem now to me
Would they could be to all thy chequer'd world!
38
“TOUT VIENT À QUI SAIT ATTENDRE.”
All hoped-for things will come to you
Who have the strength to watch and wait,—
Our longings spur the steeds of Fate,—
This has been said by one who knew.
Who have the strength to watch and wait,—
Our longings spur the steeds of Fate,—
This has been said by one who knew.
She loved you when your heart was cold,
Her eyes said “yes” when yours said “nay,”
You love,—her heart is turn'd away
And beats no longer as of old!
Her eyes said “yes” when yours said “nay,”
You love,—her heart is turn'd away
And beats no longer as of old!
He sang to her at early dawn,
She turn'd away and would not hear;
She seeks him now, he is not near;
She craves his love—his love is gone!
She turn'd away and would not hear;
She seeks him now, he is not near;
She craves his love—his love is gone!
She pray'd for yours—you long for hers;
Hers lived last year, yours lives to-day;
His lived, but now has pass'd away,—
And when she calls no answer stirs!
Hers lived last year, yours lives to-day;
His lived, but now has pass'd away,—
And when she calls no answer stirs!
39
How make it well for him—for her?
How clip the pinions of her heart
To give to his the longer start?
For whom the rein?—to whom the spur?
How clip the pinions of her heart
To give to his the longer start?
For whom the rein?—to whom the spur?
Ah, darling! could we run this race
(This race of loving), side by side,
I should gain knowledge how to ride
To keep our hearts at equal pace!
(This race of loving), side by side,
I should gain knowledge how to ride
To keep our hearts at equal pace!
But ah! betwixt us sea and plain
Are stretch'd afar in dreary line,
And if your longing equals mine,
Or if your loving wax or wane,
Are stretch'd afar in dreary line,
And if your longing equals mine,
Or if your loving wax or wane,
I know not, for I cannot see,
So far from mine your pathway lies,
In vain I strain my weary eyes,
Your life is lived away from me!
So far from mine your pathway lies,
In vain I strain my weary eyes,
Your life is lived away from me!
Ah! rare, indeed, if heart to heart,
If soul to soul can cling and turn,
If love for love can breathe and burn
When each is torn so far apart!
If soul to soul can cling and turn,
If love for love can breathe and burn
When each is torn so far apart!
40
Ah, “All things come to those who wait”
(I say these words to make me glad),
But something answers soft and sad—
“They come, but often come too late!”
(I say these words to make me glad),
But something answers soft and sad—
“They come, but often come too late!”
41
“AFTER LONG YEARS.”
As I stand upon the pathway where I saw you standing last,
I look vainly for your footprints, for so many more have pass'd;
They have press'd upon those dear ones, and have trodden them away,
And these others, that came after, will be trodden out as they.
Then I think “Life is a pathway, and the footprints are the years,
Where our sorrows mock our laughter, and our smiles efface our tears,
As with living, so with loving, changing figures come and go,
Sweeping out each other's footmarks with their flittings to and fro.”
Ah, my darling, then I wonder if at sunset, when you gaze
O'er the country you have travell'd, with its sad and pleasant ways,
Will you mark where fell my footsteps on your pathway for a space,
'Ere the coming feet of others shall have swept away their trace?
Can I think it? dare I hope it? when together hand in hand,
For a little while we journey'd,—when our shadows on the sand
Seem'd as one for but one moment, and alas! then two again,
Dare I hope that any record of my passing will remain?
Or, when in your mem'ry's mirror, all your vanish'd loves shall pass,
Will my shadow linger longer than the others in the glass?
With a look half sad, half mocking,—half in smiles and half in tears,
Will my lips waft something to you like the kiss of bygone years?
When I vanish, who will follow? Will you loose or hold her fast?
Will she linger as I linger'd? Will she pass as others pass'd?
In the dim uncertain future, who shall come you may not guess,
She may sweep me from your mem'ry with the trailing of her dress;
You may loose me in her beauty, and forget me in her smile,
And her breath may fade the picture that you cherish'd for a while.
Hast'ning past those days of sunshine, when our lives seem'd merged in one,
From the sunshine you may hurry to the presence of the sun,
For it may be that the moments were but wasted loving me,
Or only the foreshadowing of happier ones to be!
But ah! if they love more fondly (future love or future wife),
If my living was not loving—if my loving was not Life,
Oh, then drive my trembling spirit from the threshold of your heart,
Let me hear you taunt and mock me as I shudder and depart!
Let me see the eyes I worshipp'd on another shed their beams,
And then let me fade forgotten to the chilly land of dreams!
I look vainly for your footprints, for so many more have pass'd;
They have press'd upon those dear ones, and have trodden them away,
And these others, that came after, will be trodden out as they.
Then I think “Life is a pathway, and the footprints are the years,
Where our sorrows mock our laughter, and our smiles efface our tears,
As with living, so with loving, changing figures come and go,
Sweeping out each other's footmarks with their flittings to and fro.”
Ah, my darling, then I wonder if at sunset, when you gaze
O'er the country you have travell'd, with its sad and pleasant ways,
42
'Ere the coming feet of others shall have swept away their trace?
Can I think it? dare I hope it? when together hand in hand,
For a little while we journey'd,—when our shadows on the sand
Seem'd as one for but one moment, and alas! then two again,
Dare I hope that any record of my passing will remain?
Or, when in your mem'ry's mirror, all your vanish'd loves shall pass,
Will my shadow linger longer than the others in the glass?
With a look half sad, half mocking,—half in smiles and half in tears,
Will my lips waft something to you like the kiss of bygone years?
When I vanish, who will follow? Will you loose or hold her fast?
Will she linger as I linger'd? Will she pass as others pass'd?
43
She may sweep me from your mem'ry with the trailing of her dress;
You may loose me in her beauty, and forget me in her smile,
And her breath may fade the picture that you cherish'd for a while.
Hast'ning past those days of sunshine, when our lives seem'd merged in one,
From the sunshine you may hurry to the presence of the sun,
For it may be that the moments were but wasted loving me,
Or only the foreshadowing of happier ones to be!
But ah! if they love more fondly (future love or future wife),
If my living was not loving—if my loving was not Life,
Oh, then drive my trembling spirit from the threshold of your heart,
Let me hear you taunt and mock me as I shudder and depart!
Let me see the eyes I worshipp'd on another shed their beams,
44
Ah, I fain would drop the curtain on my wand'ring thoughts that range,
For here nothing can be certain but the certainty of change;
Dare we promise, or un-promise, to remember or forget,
Knowing all the changeling changes that the Future may beget?
But the Present is our own still, and I hug and hold it fast,
As the sailor in a tempest fastens wildly to the mast;
For I know not, if I loose it, what my future fate may be;
Are the waters sweet or bitter of that dim unfathom'd sea?
Till our “Never” is “For ever,” till “To-morrow” is “To-day,”
Till all Future things are Present, till our Present fades away;
Dare we plan or dare we promise? All the voices of my mind
Seem to say, “Beware and tremble, lest to-morrow be not kind;
Lest your Heaven be not Heaven—lest your Idol should depart;”
But “I love you, oh! I love you!” say the voices of my heart.
Oh, forsake me, and forget me, oh, be cruel and unkind;
I forget it—I forgive it! round your life my love is twined;
You have made my world a Heaven, you have fill'd my soul with bliss,
And the thirst of all my being is forgotten in your kiss!
For here nothing can be certain but the certainty of change;
Dare we promise, or un-promise, to remember or forget,
Knowing all the changeling changes that the Future may beget?
But the Present is our own still, and I hug and hold it fast,
As the sailor in a tempest fastens wildly to the mast;
For I know not, if I loose it, what my future fate may be;
Are the waters sweet or bitter of that dim unfathom'd sea?
Till our “Never” is “For ever,” till “To-morrow” is “To-day,”
Till all Future things are Present, till our Present fades away;
Dare we plan or dare we promise? All the voices of my mind
45
Lest your Heaven be not Heaven—lest your Idol should depart;”
But “I love you, oh! I love you!” say the voices of my heart.
Oh, forsake me, and forget me, oh, be cruel and unkind;
I forget it—I forgive it! round your life my love is twined;
You have made my world a Heaven, you have fill'd my soul with bliss,
And the thirst of all my being is forgotten in your kiss!
Ah, my darling, on the pathway of the life that I have trod,
Deeply printed are your footsteps, like the footsteps of a god;
Treading out all fainter traces—seal'd for ever in the sand,
Marking which were pleasant places in that unforgotten land!
And your shadow, not as others, will it fade away and pass?
I shall stretch my arms towards it when I see it in the glass;
I shall cling to it and kiss it,—I shall whisper to it, “Stay!”
For your memory shall be my love, when love has pass'd away!
Oh, then love me for a little, for I live but for your smile!
Betwixt coming loves and going, let me linger for a while!
If you leave me can I blame you? Shall I hunger for you less?
No forsaking makes forgetting! In my haunted loneliness
I shall bow before the Power that reclaims what has been given,
And live upon his memory who made the earth seem Heaven!
Deeply printed are your footsteps, like the footsteps of a god;
Treading out all fainter traces—seal'd for ever in the sand,
Marking which were pleasant places in that unforgotten land!
And your shadow, not as others, will it fade away and pass?
46
I shall cling to it and kiss it,—I shall whisper to it, “Stay!”
For your memory shall be my love, when love has pass'd away!
Oh, then love me for a little, for I live but for your smile!
Betwixt coming loves and going, let me linger for a while!
If you leave me can I blame you? Shall I hunger for you less?
No forsaking makes forgetting! In my haunted loneliness
I shall bow before the Power that reclaims what has been given,
And live upon his memory who made the earth seem Heaven!
47
COMPENSATION.
To those who may have fail'd to gain
The treasure that I prize to-day,
Lest they should envy me, I say
How long I strove for it in vain;
The treasure that I prize to-day,
Lest they should envy me, I say
How long I strove for it in vain;
How dark and dreary were the years,
Lest they should deem my life all bliss,
Before at last I won the kiss
That dried the fountain of my tears.
Lest they should deem my life all bliss,
Before at last I won the kiss
That dried the fountain of my tears.
How months and weeks and days pass'd by,
And how the lonely loveless night
Seem'd but to come to show that light
Had faded from the sullen sky.
And how the lonely loveless night
Seem'd but to come to show that light
Had faded from the sullen sky.
How sleep seem'd sent me to forget,
And how my dreaming was a dread,
How daylight dawn'd and darkness fled
As sadly as the daylight set.
And how my dreaming was a dread,
How daylight dawn'd and darkness fled
As sadly as the daylight set.
48
And how a dull and weary ache,
The thought that nothing good could be,
Came like a death-chill over me
When first I saw the morning break.
The thought that nothing good could be,
Came like a death-chill over me
When first I saw the morning break.
And then there came the dismal round
Of all the fruitless barren hours
Scatter'd like handfuls of fresh flow'rs
That wither wasted on the ground.
Of all the fruitless barren hours
Scatter'd like handfuls of fresh flow'rs
That wither wasted on the ground.
Alas! the Winter's dreary gloom,
The aimless yearnings of the Spring!
The Autumn's silent withering,
And all the blinding summer bloom!
The aimless yearnings of the Spring!
The Autumn's silent withering,
And all the blinding summer bloom!
Long years of hopelessness, and how
Unsunn'd, unnourish'd save by tears,
My heart beat on thro' all the years
That, thanks to you, are brighten'd now!
Unsunn'd, unnourish'd save by tears,
My heart beat on thro' all the years
That, thanks to you, are brighten'd now!
Yet, lest to those whose lives have been
Less sad, and now may seem less bright,
My life should hold too much delight,
Too much of what they have not seen;
Less sad, and now may seem less bright,
My life should hold too much delight,
Too much of what they have not seen;
49
And lest they envy me the glow
Of sunshine that my sun has shed
Upon a path they may not tread,
I say, “It was not always so;”
Of sunshine that my sun has shed
Upon a path they may not tread,
I say, “It was not always so;”
That they may know these golden years
Which Love has made to seem so bright,
Were heralded by darkest night,
And earned in bitterness and tears.
Which Love has made to seem so bright,
Were heralded by darkest night,
And earned in bitterness and tears.
50
BEFORE AND AFTER.
Before I knew my soul's delight
How often have I watch'd alone
The garden glades, that blooming bright,
In all their summer glory shone;—
The fern that feather'd fresh and green,
The tall ox-daisies in the grass,
The fragrant smelling eglantine,
And only sigh'd, “Alas, alas,
Oh, wasted hours! oh, wasted days!
My heart is sadden'd as I gaze!”
How often have I watch'd alone
The garden glades, that blooming bright,
In all their summer glory shone;—
The fern that feather'd fresh and green,
The tall ox-daisies in the grass,
The fragrant smelling eglantine,
And only sigh'd, “Alas, alas,
Oh, wasted hours! oh, wasted days!
My heart is sadden'd as I gaze!”
Even the shadow of a bird
Upon the daisy-spangled lawn
Each secret pulse within me stirr'd;—
The dewy freshness of the dawn
Seem'd profitless and good for naught,
And when the soft, warm day had waned,
Its beauty grieved me, for I thought
“To-day is lost, and what is gain'd!
Oh, wasted hours! oh, wasted days!
My heart is sadden'd as I gaze!”
Upon the daisy-spangled lawn
Each secret pulse within me stirr'd;—
The dewy freshness of the dawn
Seem'd profitless and good for naught,
And when the soft, warm day had waned,
Its beauty grieved me, for I thought
“To-day is lost, and what is gain'd!
Oh, wasted hours! oh, wasted days!
My heart is sadden'd as I gaze!”
51
Oh, days that fled I know not how!
So slow, and yet withal so fleet!
The bud seem'd scarcely on the bough,
Scarcely the rose's breast was sweet,
Before the leaves grew crisp and sere,
And all the earth was damp and chill,
Whilst Autumn winds seem'd ev'rywhere
To make the same sad murmur still—
“Oh, wasted hours! oh, wasted days!
My heart is sadden'd as I gaze!”
So slow, and yet withal so fleet!
The bud seem'd scarcely on the bough,
Scarcely the rose's breast was sweet,
Before the leaves grew crisp and sere,
And all the earth was damp and chill,
Whilst Autumn winds seem'd ev'rywhere
To make the same sad murmur still—
“Oh, wasted hours! oh, wasted days!
My heart is sadden'd as I gaze!”
Each thing of beauty seem'd to me
A mockery,—a vain deceit,—
The promise of some joy to be
Which never would be mine to meet;—
Or else the echo of a strain
Of some such music as mine ears
Had long'd and listen'd for in vain
Thro' all the waiting, weary years,—
“Oh, wasted years! oh, wasted days!
My heart is sadden'd as I gaze!”
A mockery,—a vain deceit,—
The promise of some joy to be
Which never would be mine to meet;—
Or else the echo of a strain
Of some such music as mine ears
Had long'd and listen'd for in vain
Thro' all the waiting, weary years,—
“Oh, wasted years! oh, wasted days!
My heart is sadden'd as I gaze!”
Yet when, at Christmas-tide, the bells
Rang mournful joy-proclaiming chimes,
They sounded like the fun'ral knells
Of what were almost happy times;
And as I thought “Another year,
Another wasted year has flown!”
A thousand mocking voices near
Echo'd from city spires the moan—
“Oh, wasted years! oh, wasted days!
My heart is sadden'd as I gaze!”
Rang mournful joy-proclaiming chimes,
They sounded like the fun'ral knells
Of what were almost happy times;
52
Another wasted year has flown!”
A thousand mocking voices near
Echo'd from city spires the moan—
“Oh, wasted years! oh, wasted days!
My heart is sadden'd as I gaze!”
But even as I mused and dream'd
The old life faded quite away,
And all the golden sunlight stream'd
And warm'd my being with its ray.
Ah, then for me, the garden glow'd,
Ah, then for me, a silv'ry voice
Sang in the river as it flow'd,
And whisper'd to my heart, “Rejoice!
The days of Death are gone and past,
And Life and Love are here at last!”
The old life faded quite away,
And all the golden sunlight stream'd
And warm'd my being with its ray.
Ah, then for me, the garden glow'd,
Ah, then for me, a silv'ry voice
Sang in the river as it flow'd,
And whisper'd to my heart, “Rejoice!
The days of Death are gone and past,
And Life and Love are here at last!”
Ah, sailing now on sunny seas
With such a new and dear delight,
My heart grows light again, and these
(The days of darkness and of night)
Seem far behind our golden sails,
Fill'd with the breath of Love's sweet voice,
Whilst over sea-bound hills and dales
I hear the echo'd words, “Rejoice!
The days of Death are gone and past,
And Life and Love are here at last!”
With such a new and dear delight,
My heart grows light again, and these
(The days of darkness and of night)
Seem far behind our golden sails,
Fill'd with the breath of Love's sweet voice,
Whilst over sea-bound hills and dales
I hear the echo'd words, “Rejoice!
53
And Life and Love are here at last!”
Oh, when you read the words I sing
(Should those sweet eyes but glance them o'er),
Your heart will guess what hidden spring
Inspired my simple metaphor,
And you will know who spread the sail,
Who made the world so bright to glow,
And ah, in pity, do not fail,
Dear Love, to try and keep it so!
Then will the days of Death be past,
And Life and Love be ours at last!
(Should those sweet eyes but glance them o'er),
Your heart will guess what hidden spring
Inspired my simple metaphor,
And you will know who spread the sail,
Who made the world so bright to glow,
And ah, in pity, do not fail,
Dear Love, to try and keep it so!
Then will the days of Death be past,
And Life and Love be ours at last!
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] | |