Shifting Scenes and Other Poems By J. Stanyan Bigg |
 |
|
| I. | I.
ABSENT. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
 | Shifting Scenes and Other Poems |  |
29
I. ABSENT.
Scene: A Garden near the Royal Palace. Time, Evening. Hayti, the Wife of Jug Dev Purmar, is walking alone.
Her eyelids droop; her cheek is wet;
And all its budded roses blow
Fainter, and fainter still, and grow
Like lilies white, and whiter yet.
And all its budded roses blow
Fainter, and fainter still, and grow
Like lilies white, and whiter yet.
Her happy babes, that all the day
Ran up and down the garden-walk,
And filled the air with their dear talk,
In a sweet slumber softly lay:
Ran up and down the garden-walk,
And filled the air with their dear talk,
In a sweet slumber softly lay:
Her glorious babes—so bright and fair—
She almost wonders, as she sings,
They do not spread out gauzy wings,
And soar into the summer air.
She almost wonders, as she sings,
They do not spread out gauzy wings,
And soar into the summer air.
Their laughter is so rich and deep,
She links it with the songs of birds;
And all their little lisping words
Come trembling to her in her sleep;
She links it with the songs of birds;
And all their little lisping words
Come trembling to her in her sleep;
30
And all the light of their sweet eyes
Is garnered in her heart of hearts:
She often thinks with shuddering starts,
They are bright aliens of the skies;
Is garnered in her heart of hearts:
She often thinks with shuddering starts,
They are bright aliens of the skies;
And trembles, lest some holy night,
A glory-form should break the gloom,
And, shimmering through their little room,
Take them for ever out of sight!
A glory-form should break the gloom,
And, shimmering through their little room,
Take them for ever out of sight!
So wondrously their faces burn,
So purely dance the sudden gushes,
She often thinks the tell-tale blushes
For some more radiant planet yearn;—
So purely dance the sudden gushes,
She often thinks the tell-tale blushes
For some more radiant planet yearn;—
Somewhere beyond the gleaming bars
Of sunset, on a golden even—
Somewhere—she knows not where—in heaven,
Whence comes the spirit-peep of stars.
Of sunset, on a golden even—
Somewhere—she knows not where—in heaven,
Whence comes the spirit-peep of stars.
Her one sweet boy, so merry and wise,
And her two dainty little girls,
Shining behind a dance of curls,
That dazzle the mother's loving eyes,
And her two dainty little girls,
Shining behind a dance of curls,
That dazzle the mother's loving eyes,
And give her heart-beats, as she sees
The floating glory glimmer and break,
Like rippled moonlight on a lake,
Through the cool darkness of the trees.
The floating glory glimmer and break,
Like rippled moonlight on a lake,
Through the cool darkness of the trees.
31
Like streaming moonbeams, through the boughs,
Lending a lustre to each other,
The loved twin-sisters and their brother
Go gleaming on with brightening brows;
Lending a lustre to each other,
The loved twin-sisters and their brother
Go gleaming on with brightening brows;
And into her heart of hearts they go,
With all their laughters and their wiles,
Their innocent words, and happy smiles,
And all their life's unsullied glow,
With all their laughters and their wiles,
Their innocent words, and happy smiles,
And all their life's unsullied glow,
Awaking dim imaginings
Of happy isles and regions tender,
Where beings of supernal splendour
Glide hushing through a gleam of wings;
Of happy isles and regions tender,
Where beings of supernal splendour
Glide hushing through a gleam of wings;
And faëry palfreys come and go
From castles hid in hoary woods
By faëry streams, where falling floods
Fall silent as the falling snow.
From castles hid in hoary woods
By faëry streams, where falling floods
Fall silent as the falling snow.
And now each baby calmly sleeps;
Her happy nest is warm and well;
Why should her bosom heave and swell?
How is it the beaming mother weeps?
Her happy nest is warm and well;
Why should her bosom heave and swell?
How is it the beaming mother weeps?
Her stalwart husband's at the war,
And tongues are false, and friends are few,
And kings are mortal, and the true
Can meet no charges when afar.
And tongues are false, and friends are few,
And kings are mortal, and the true
Can meet no charges when afar.
| Shifting Scenes and Other Poems | |