My Lyrical Life Poems Old and New. By Gerald Massey |
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 | My Lyrical Life |  |
210
ICHABOD.
Seven Summers' Suns have set! the world is once more sweetly flooded
With fragrance, for the virgin-leaves and violet-banks have budded:
Heaven claspeth Earth, as round the heart first broodeth Love's rich glow;
A blush of Flowers is mantling where the lush green grasses grow!
All things feel summering sunward, golden tides stream down the air,
Which burns, as Angel-visitants had left a glory there!
But darkness on my aching spirit shrouds the merry shine,—
I long to feel a gush of Spring in this poor heart of mine.
With fragrance, for the virgin-leaves and violet-banks have budded:
Heaven claspeth Earth, as round the heart first broodeth Love's rich glow;
A blush of Flowers is mantling where the lush green grasses grow!
All things feel summering sunward, golden tides stream down the air,
Which burns, as Angel-visitants had left a glory there!
But darkness on my aching spirit shrouds the merry shine,—
I long to feel a gush of Spring in this poor heart of mine.
Morn opes Heaven's secret portal, back the pearly gates are drawn,
And all the fields of glory blossom with the crimson Dawn:
But never comes thy clasping hand, or carol of thy lips,
That made my heart soar like a spirit freed from Death's eclipse.
Sweet voice! it came like magic music, healing angels make,
When pain sat heavy on my brow, and heart was like to break:
Methought such love gave wings to climb some starry throne to win;
Thou didst so lift up earth's horizon—letting heaven in.
And all the fields of glory blossom with the crimson Dawn:
But never comes thy clasping hand, or carol of thy lips,
That made my heart soar like a spirit freed from Death's eclipse.
Sweet voice! it came like magic music, healing angels make,
When pain sat heavy on my brow, and heart was like to break:
211
Thou didst so lift up earth's horizon—letting heaven in.
I'm thinking, Darling, of the days when life was all divine,
And love was aye the silver cord that bound my heart to thine;
When life bloomed at thy coming, as the green earth greets the sun,
And, like two dew-drops in a kiss, our twin souls wed in one.
Ah! still I feel ye at my heart! and 'mid the stir and strife,
Ye sometimes lead my feet to walk the angel-side of Life:
The magic music yearns within, as unto thee I turn,
And those dear eyes, a-blaze with soul, through all my being burn.
And love was aye the silver cord that bound my heart to thine;
When life bloomed at thy coming, as the green earth greets the sun,
And, like two dew-drops in a kiss, our twin souls wed in one.
Ah! still I feel ye at my heart! and 'mid the stir and strife,
Ye sometimes lead my feet to walk the angel-side of Life:
The magic music yearns within, as unto thee I turn,
And those dear eyes, a-blaze with soul, through all my being burn.
Come back,—come back; I long to clasp thee in these arms, mine own;
Lavish my heart upon thy lips, and make my love the Crown
And Arc of Triumph to thy life. Why tarry? Time hath cast
Strange shadows on my spirit since we met and mingled last!
Yet there be joys to crown thee with; the sunshine and the sweet
Are hived, like honey, in my heart, to share them should we meet:
How I have hoarded up my life! how tenderly I strove
To make my heart fit home for thee, its nestling Bird of love!
Lavish my heart upon thy lips, and make my love the Crown
And Arc of Triumph to thy life. Why tarry? Time hath cast
Strange shadows on my spirit since we met and mingled last!
Yet there be joys to crown thee with; the sunshine and the sweet
Are hived, like honey, in my heart, to share them should we meet:
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To make my heart fit home for thee, its nestling Bird of love!
God bless thee! once the radiant world thy beauty crownlike wore,
But life hath lost the strange sweet feel that cometh never more!
The flowers will bud again in spring, and happy birds make love,
With melting hearts, a-brooding o'er their passion in the grove.
But thou wilt never more come back, to clothe my heart with spring;
Dear God! Love's sweetest chord is turned to Pain's most jarring string!
The Glory hath departed! and my spirit pants to go
Where, 'mid Life's troubled waters, 'twill not see the wreck below.
But life hath lost the strange sweet feel that cometh never more!
The flowers will bud again in spring, and happy birds make love,
With melting hearts, a-brooding o'er their passion in the grove.
But thou wilt never more come back, to clothe my heart with spring;
Dear God! Love's sweetest chord is turned to Pain's most jarring string!
The Glory hath departed! and my spirit pants to go
Where, 'mid Life's troubled waters, 'twill not see the wreck below.
| My Lyrical Life | |