 | Diana's Looking Glass and Other Poems by Charles D. Bell |  |
LOVE'S QUESTIONINGS.
When dead they carry me beyond the door,
And you sit lonely in our pleasant room,
Will thoughts of days that can return no more,
Rise up like ghosts that come back from the tomb?
And you sit lonely in our pleasant room,
Will thoughts of days that can return no more,
Rise up like ghosts that come back from the tomb?
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Will tendernesses of the olden time,
That lent a sweetness to the vanished hours,
Which, as they passed, struck each with silver chime,
Be borne to you like scent of withered flowers?
That lent a sweetness to the vanished hours,
Which, as they passed, struck each with silver chime,
Be borne to you like scent of withered flowers?
O Love! will you remember that dear hour,
The day when first I called you all my own,
When blossomed all my heart in sudden flower,
And hope full-statured at a bound had grown?
The day when first I called you all my own,
When blossomed all my heart in sudden flower,
And hope full-statured at a bound had grown?
Then spring was in its fresh and April grace,
Its odours borne to us in breezes soft;
Beauty and bloom were brightening every place,
The little lambs were bleating in the croft.
Its odours borne to us in breezes soft;
Beauty and bloom were brightening every place,
The little lambs were bleating in the croft.
That spring! Its sweetness comes across me now,
I see the dewy fields that round us lay,
I feel its coolness on my fevered brow;
Ah, earth was nearer heaven that happy day!
I see the dewy fields that round us lay,
I feel its coolness on my fevered brow;
Ah, earth was nearer heaven that happy day!
Do you remember it? and will it be
A thought to comfort you when I am gone,
When I myself am but a memory,
And you sit musing at our hearth alone?
A thought to comfort you when I am gone,
When I myself am but a memory,
And you sit musing at our hearth alone?
And what of after years when life grew sweet,
When love robbed grief of more than half its pain,
And days passed rapidly on flying feet,—
Will there be yearnings they could come again?
When love robbed grief of more than half its pain,
And days passed rapidly on flying feet,—
Will there be yearnings they could come again?
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Oh, will you sicken for the dear old days,
So happy, though they had some grief and care?
And will your glass reflect a weary face,
Pale with the passion of a sad despair?
So happy, though they had some grief and care?
And will your glass reflect a weary face,
Pale with the passion of a sad despair?
For those were days, beloved, when e'en our sighs
Were often born of happiness, not pain;
And life was like the blue and summer skies,
Where, if a cloud appeared, it passed again.
Were often born of happiness, not pain;
And life was like the blue and summer skies,
Where, if a cloud appeared, it passed again.
So, will your heart ache as you sit and dream
Fondly of me, now in the silent land,
Whence looking wistfully across the stream,
I long to welcome you to where I stand?
Fondly of me, now in the silent land,
Whence looking wistfully across the stream,
I long to welcome you to where I stand?
If able, I will come unto the place
Where I sat with you, in the days gone by;
And, as I look unseen into your face,
You'll feel, by love's true instinct, I am nigh.
Where I sat with you, in the days gone by;
And, as I look unseen into your face,
You'll feel, by love's true instinct, I am nigh.
So do not weep, beloved, when I am gone;
Why should there fall for me one fruitless tear?
In life, or death, you still are all my own;
What matter, then, if I be there or here?
Why should there fall for me one fruitless tear?
In life, or death, you still are all my own;
What matter, then, if I be there or here?
| Diana's Looking Glass and Other Poems by Charles D. Bell | |