Poems Old and New by Charles D. Bell

She was here a little child,
Not so very long ago;
Then spring airs were blowing mild,
Now the earth is cold with snow.
Then she was so young and bright,
Flashing like a gleam of light,
Playing 'midst the daisies white.

Out and in amongst the trees,
'Neath the shadows cool and green;
Buoyant as the summer breeze
Which the branches played between.
How she floated here and there,
Spirit-like, and sweet and fair,
Scarce of earth and more of air!

272

Often have I seen her pass
Through the young and sprouting corn,
Stealing gently through the grass,
Looking if the larks were born.
Or a butterfly she'd chase,
With a flush upon her face,
And a nameless winsome grace.

Lovely grew she day by day—
Hair of gold and eyes of blue;
Fresh as any flower in May;
Trusting, innocent, and true.
Lips as red as rosy wine,
Looks, although so infantine,
Seeing into things divine.

Music made she in our home;
Light she brought with her, and joy;
Hearts leapt up to see her come,
Now so bashful, now so coy.
Ah, she was the sweetest thing!
Soft her voice, with silvery ring,
Like as when a bird doth sing.

Dead;—for me she liveth still,
Goeth with me where I go;
Tears for her run down at will,
All my heart they overflow.

273

For my darling she is gone,
And I stand here all alone,
Looking at her grave-yard stone.

Oh, my Effie, dearest dear!
On this tomb I see thy name,
Graven there wellnigh a year,
Since God's angels for thee came.
Oh, my own, my little one,
Thou thy race hast quickly run—
Ended it, ere well begun!

Does that twelvemonth seem to thee
Short, my darling; not a year?
Very long it seems to me,
Not an hour without its tear.
Short to thee;—for at thy feet
God has put all things most sweet;
Heavenly joys, for heaven meet.

Thou art where the angels move,
Up and down before God's face,
And where He whose name is Love,
Doth all things in love embrace.
Thou hast, Effie, entered in
That safe place where is no sin;
Far from earth, and earth's sad din.

274

In thine hand a harp of gold,
Struck beneath the green life-tree,
Maketh music manifold;
Ah, that it could reach to me!
Smiles are ever in thine eyes;
Smiles as if for victories,
Won o'er Heaven's mysteries.

Dost thou ever downward look
On the world, so poor and vain?
Hast for ever from thee shook
Thoughts of all its care and pain?
Is to thee the past quite past,
Nothing better than a waste,
All its memories effaced?

And thy father, Effie, say
Has he grown a something dim?
Hast with earth put far away
Thoughts and memories of him?
Dost thou never, darling, miss,
Just as I do, all the bliss
When our mouths met kiss to kiss?

I would know if thou dost hear
Voices that I send to thee;
Do they trouble the calm sphere,
Discords in its melody?

275

Dost thou, sweet one, ever long
I the angels were among,
Joining in their choral song?

Lost, beloved, but oh, loved still;
Do the thoughts of days behind
Ever through thy spirit thrill,
Press themselves upon thy mind?
And do wishes rise in vain
Days gone by might come again,
That the now were as the then?

Effie, 'midst the children there
I shall know thee; claim thee mine:
Hardly, dear one, grown more fair,
Though transfigured to divine.
I shall know thee from the rest,
Hold thee ever to this breast,
Of all bliss and thee possest.

Ah, I wrong myself and thee,
Fretting thus against the rod!
Thou art happy:—let it be:
Rest, until I come, with God.
And I know that soon the door,
Opening on the other shore,
Will receive me evermore.

University of Virginia Library

EFFIE.