 | Poems Old and New by Charles D. Bell |  |
249
RONDEAUX.
[_]
It may interest some of my readers to know that after alluding to “the substance as well as the ingenuity of form” of the following Rondeaux, Mr. Robert Browning adds in a letter to me, “With respect to your question concerning my sympathy with the first two poems, assuredly you have it altogether. I should consider that such a visitation as was really and repeatedly promised me,—a promise which continuing to be unkept, is to me a proof that to keep it were impossible. I should esteem such an appearance a blessing almost beyond any other I can conceive of,—in fact too blessed for the conditions of this world, and our present life.”
I. WORKS DEATH SUCH CHANGE?
Works Death such change upon our dead,
Doth it such awe around them spread,
That, would they suddenly appear,
Trembling, we would recoil in fear,
Though on their breast had lain our head?
Doth it such awe around them spread,
That, would they suddenly appear,
Trembling, we would recoil in fear,
Though on their breast had lain our head?
Why should their light and ghostly tread
Thus thrill us with a nameless dread,
If still we hold them all so dear?
Works Death such change?
Thus thrill us with a nameless dread,
If still we hold them all so dear?
Works Death such change?
We kissed their cold lips on the bier,
And weeping wished the spirit here;
And shall the wish be all unsaid,
If some night, rising near our bed,
They stand within the moonlight clear?
Works Death such change?
And weeping wished the spirit here;
And shall the wish be all unsaid,
If some night, rising near our bed,
They stand within the moonlight clear?
Works Death such change?
250
II. I WOULD NOT SHRINK.
I would not shrink if some dear ghost,
One of the dead's unnumbered host,
Should rise in silence of the night,
Shrined in an aureole of light,
And pale as snowdrop in the frost.
One of the dead's unnumbered host,
Should rise in silence of the night,
Shrined in an aureole of light,
And pale as snowdrop in the frost.
No! if the brother loved and lost
For me the silent river crossed,
For me left worlds all fair and bright,
I would not shrink!
For me the silent river crossed,
For me left worlds all fair and bright,
I would not shrink!
Oh, if I gauge my heart aright,
Dear would the dead be to my sight;
A vision from the other coast,
Of one on earth I cherished most,
Would be a measureless delight:
I would not shrink!
Dear would the dead be to my sight;
A vision from the other coast,
Of one on earth I cherished most,
Would be a measureless delight:
I would not shrink!
251
III. HE DOES NOT COME.
He does not come, although I pray
From sombre eve to morning grey;
Either my voice he cannot hear
In that untroubled happier sphere,
Or cannot force to me his way.
From sombre eve to morning grey;
Either my voice he cannot hear
In that untroubled happier sphere,
Or cannot force to me his way.
Ah, they but mock us when they say,
The dead revisit realms of day,
Or ever to our sight appear,—
He does not come!
The dead revisit realms of day,
Or ever to our sight appear,—
He does not come!
Yet eager was he to obey
What on his heart I pleased to lay;
And if he heard, he would stand here
Before me in the moonlight clear,
Though only for an hour his stay,—
He does not come!
What on his heart I pleased to lay;
And if he heard, he would stand here
Before me in the moonlight clear,
Though only for an hour his stay,—
He does not come!
252
IV. BEFORE HE PASSED.
Before he passed from mortal view,
To where he sleeps beneath the yew,
He said, “Weep not; to thee I'll come,
If spirits ever leave that home
Through whose dark gates I go from you.”
To where he sleeps beneath the yew,
He said, “Weep not; to thee I'll come,
If spirits ever leave that home
Through whose dark gates I go from you.”
How firm his promise well I knew;
So as he spake life sweeter grew,
And flowered again my heart in bloom,
Before he passed!
So as he spake life sweeter grew,
And flowered again my heart in bloom,
Before he passed!
Alas! the sweet hope is not true;
He may not tread the avenue
That leadeth from the nether gloom;
Else would he come to this dear room.
I heard his vow,—God heard it too,
Before he passed!
He may not tread the avenue
That leadeth from the nether gloom;
Else would he come to this dear room.
I heard his vow,—God heard it too,
Before he passed!
253
V. NOT FOR THE DEAD.
Not for the sainted dead we weep;
Untroubled is their rest and deep.
For them why should we mourn or sigh?
'Neath quiet graves in peace they lie;
“Thou givest Thy beloved sleep.”
Untroubled is their rest and deep.
For them why should we mourn or sigh?
'Neath quiet graves in peace they lie;
“Thou givest Thy beloved sleep.”
For tempted souls, for wandering sheep,
For all whose path is rough and steep,
For them we lift our voice on high—
Not for the dead!
For all whose path is rough and steep,
For them we lift our voice on high—
Not for the dead!
For all who 'neath sore burdens creep,
Who sow the wind, the whirlwind reap,
Who lonely watch the days go by,
For hearts that bleed while eyes are dry:
For these, O Lord, our tears we keep—
Not for the dead!
Who sow the wind, the whirlwind reap,
Who lonely watch the days go by,
For hearts that bleed while eyes are dry:
For these, O Lord, our tears we keep—
Not for the dead!
254
VI. SLEEP THEY NOT WELL?
Sleep they not well, the sainted dead?
For sorrow they have peace instead:
Our Father housed His children dear,
Before the tempest gathered near,
And burst in thunders loud and dread.
For sorrow they have peace instead:
Our Father housed His children dear,
Before the tempest gathered near,
And burst in thunders loud and dread.
Healed are the hearts that inly bled,
The mourning souls are comforted,
And stanched the fount of every tear;
Sleep they not well?
The mourning souls are comforted,
And stanched the fount of every tear;
Sleep they not well?
And if, until the Lord appear,
Earth, like a mother pressing near
To watch beside the loved one's bed,
Wraps her dark mantle round their head,
And shelters them from pain and fear,
Sleep they not well?
Earth, like a mother pressing near
To watch beside the loved one's bed,
Wraps her dark mantle round their head,
And shelters them from pain and fear,
Sleep they not well?
255
VII. WITHDRAW THE VEIL.
Withdraw the veil, O God, I pray,
A little even, that a ray
Shining from out the glory bright
May fall upon our darkling night,
And with us ever rest and stay!
A little even, that a ray
Shining from out the glory bright
May fall upon our darkling night,
And with us ever rest and stay!
Through gloom and shadow lies our way,
The mists are heavy, thick, and grey,
We stumble as we grope for light.
Withdraw the veil!
The mists are heavy, thick, and grey,
We stumble as we grope for light.
Withdraw the veil!
Alas! how oft we go astray,
So blind, we cannot always say
Which is the wrong, which is the right;
We need, O God, the opened sight,
“The fire by night, the cloud by day.”
Withdraw the veil!
So blind, we cannot always say
Which is the wrong, which is the right;
We need, O God, the opened sight,
“The fire by night, the cloud by day.”
Withdraw the veil!
256
VIII. CLEAR-SIGHTED FAITH.
Clear-sighted Faith! how all things lie
Changed and transfigured 'neath her eye:
A rainbow on each cloud appears,
A glory shines through mists of tears,
And cloudless blue through clouded sky.
Changed and transfigured 'neath her eye:
A rainbow on each cloud appears,
A glory shines through mists of tears,
And cloudless blue through clouded sky.
When winds blow fierce and waves are high,
Through spray and foam she can descry
His hand who safe the vessel steers,
Clear-sighted Faith!
Through spray and foam she can descry
His hand who safe the vessel steers,
Clear-sighted Faith!
Content to live—content to die,
Calmly for her the days go by,
And, dwelling in the upper spheres,
Above the reach of cares or fears,
She sees more cause to sing than sigh;
Clear-sighted Faith!
Calmly for her the days go by,
And, dwelling in the upper spheres,
Above the reach of cares or fears,
She sees more cause to sing than sigh;
Clear-sighted Faith!
257
IX. “IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN.”
“It might have been!” Like solemn knell
Rung from a deep-toned iron bell,
Upon the ear the sad words smite,
Or as a dirge heard in the night—
A dirge o'er one loved all too well.
Rung from a deep-toned iron bell,
Upon the ear the sad words smite,
Or as a dirge heard in the night—
A dirge o'er one loved all too well.
What mind can gauge, what tongue can tell,
The anguish in these words that dwell;
In them what tears to dim the sight—
“It might have been!”
The anguish in these words that dwell;
In them what tears to dim the sight—
“It might have been!”
It wakes remorse we cannot quell,
It gnaws the heart like worm of hell,
To know that we have lost the height
Where once we might have stood in light;
That from life's possible we fell,—
“It might have been!”
It gnaws the heart like worm of hell,
To know that we have lost the height
Where once we might have stood in light;
That from life's possible we fell,—
“It might have been!”
258
X. THE SWEET SAD YEARS.
The sweet sad years, the sun, the rain,
Alas! too quickly did they wane,
For each some boon, some blessing bore;
Of smiles and tears each had its store,
Its chequered lot of bliss and pain.
Alas! too quickly did they wane,
For each some boon, some blessing bore;
Of smiles and tears each had its store,
Its chequered lot of bliss and pain.
Although it idle be and vain,
Yet cannot I the wish restrain
That I had held them evermore,
The sweet sad years!
Yet cannot I the wish restrain
That I had held them evermore,
The sweet sad years!
Like echo of an old refrain,
That long within the mind has lain,
I keep repeating o'er and o'er,
“Nothing can e'er the past restore,
Nothing bring back the years again,
The sweet sad years.”
That long within the mind has lain,
I keep repeating o'er and o'er,
“Nothing can e'er the past restore,
Nothing bring back the years again,
The sweet sad years.”
259
XI. SHALL IT BE MINE?
Shall it be mine, friends? Yes, it may,
To tread the first the silent way
That leadeth to the golden door,
Opening upon God's palace floor,—
Mine first life's burden down to lay.
To tread the first the silent way
That leadeth to the golden door,
Opening upon God's palace floor,—
Mine first life's burden down to lay.
And, sweeter far than I can say,
To wait for you, and watch, and pray,
Till we shall meet to part no more,—
Shall it be mine?
To wait for you, and watch, and pray,
Till we shall meet to part no more,—
Shall it be mine?
And when God summons you away,
And rising, you the call obey,
Shall it be mine from yonder shore
To see you pass the river o'er,
And leave the shadows for the day,—
Shall it be mine?
And rising, you the call obey,
Shall it be mine from yonder shore
To see you pass the river o'er,
And leave the shadows for the day,—
Shall it be mine?
260
XII. CLOUDY DAYS.
O days of cloud! O days of rain!
With face against the window-pane
We watch the driving of the showers,
And count the long and dreary hours;
But wherefore murmur or complain?
With face against the window-pane
We watch the driving of the showers,
And count the long and dreary hours;
But wherefore murmur or complain?
We hope, nor do we hope in vain,
The sun will soon shine forth again,
And waken into life the flowers,
O days of cloud!
The sun will soon shine forth again,
And waken into life the flowers,
O days of cloud!
Then if no shadows shall remain,
Nor shrouding mists hide hill and plain,
And birds sing in the leafy bowers,
And sapphire skies once more be ours,
Peace lieth at the heart of pain,
O days of cloud!
Nor shrouding mists hide hill and plain,
And birds sing in the leafy bowers,
And sapphire skies once more be ours,
Peace lieth at the heart of pain,
O days of cloud!
261
XIII. APRIL DAYS.
O tender Springs, sweet April days,
Heralds of fair and flow'ry Mays,
When daffodils that dare the cold,
Make every meadow gleam like gold,
And violets scent the woodland ways,
Heralds of fair and flow'ry Mays,
When daffodils that dare the cold,
Make every meadow gleam like gold,
And violets scent the woodland ways,
Ye have a spell dead years to raise,
And bring them up before the gaze,
Clothed in the grace they wore of old,
O tender Springs!
And bring them up before the gaze,
Clothed in the grace they wore of old,
O tender Springs!
Out of the dim past's misty haze
There come forth those far “yesterdays,”
When life was yet a tale untold,
Sorrows but few,—joys manifold,
And all my songs were psalms of praise,
O tender Springs!
There come forth those far “yesterdays,”
When life was yet a tale untold,
Sorrows but few,—joys manifold,
And all my songs were psalms of praise,
O tender Springs!
262
XIV. THE MAY.
This jocund May, the crown of Spring,
When all the budding copses ring,
When everywhere its quick'ning breath
Awakes the slumb'ring world from death,
Is of the seasons lord and king.
When all the budding copses ring,
When everywhere its quick'ning breath
Awakes the slumb'ring world from death,
Is of the seasons lord and king.
Hearts like the birds begin to sing,
New life now throbs through everything,
And earth blooms like one flow'ry wreath,
This jocund May!
New life now throbs through everything,
And earth blooms like one flow'ry wreath,
This jocund May!
Bright sunny hours, stay, stay your wing,
Or leave with us the sweets ye bring;
O fragrant month of hope and faith,
Joy round thee fondly lingereth;
To thee dear memories still cling,
This jocund May!
Or leave with us the sweets ye bring;
O fragrant month of hope and faith,
Joy round thee fondly lingereth;
To thee dear memories still cling,
This jocund May!
263
XV. IN DAYS OF JUNE.
In days of June the summer skies
In arching glory o'er us rise,
And perfect cloudless beauty wear;
The breezes richest odours bear,
And flowers exhale themselves in sighs.
In arching glory o'er us rise,
And perfect cloudless beauty wear;
The breezes richest odours bear,
And flowers exhale themselves in sighs.
A golden splendour richly dyes
The earth in hues of Paradise,
And glowing tints divinely fair,
In days of June!
The earth in hues of Paradise,
And glowing tints divinely fair,
In days of June!
Come, friend, let Nature make us wise;
Withdraw from books your weary eyes;
Let us to woods and fields repair,
And drink the sunshine, breathe the air,
And muse in meditative guise,
In days of June!
Withdraw from books your weary eyes;
Let us to woods and fields repair,
And drink the sunshine, breathe the air,
And muse in meditative guise,
In days of June!
264
XVI. SUMMER EVES.
Fair summer eves, as twilight lies
On the dim earth and distant skies,
And moon and stars with silver light
Tremble upon the steps of night,
Expression in a rapture dies.
On the dim earth and distant skies,
And moon and stars with silver light
Tremble upon the steps of night,
Expression in a rapture dies.
Evening's warm odours round me rise,
Sweet as if blown from Paradise,
Or fairy gardens of delight;
Fair summer eves!
Sweet as if blown from Paradise,
Or fairy gardens of delight;
Fair summer eves!
And yet, half to my own surprise,
I feel the tears o'erflow mine eyes;
For absent friends ye call to sight,
Loves, hopes, that made existence bright,
That now are only memories:
Fair summer eves!
I feel the tears o'erflow mine eyes;
For absent friends ye call to sight,
Loves, hopes, that made existence bright,
That now are only memories:
Fair summer eves!
265
XVII. THE CUCKOO.
Cuckoo! Cuckoo! the woodlands ring
With thee, blithe harbinger of Spring;
Thou bringest cowslips, violets blue,
And buds and bells all drenched in dew,
Glittering like pearls upon a string.
With thee, blithe harbinger of Spring;
Thou bringest cowslips, violets blue,
And buds and bells all drenched in dew,
Glittering like pearls upon a string.
The swallow now is on the wing,
In hawthorn bush the thrushes sing,
But more I love to hear, “Cuckoo!
Cuckoo! Cuckoo!”
In hawthorn bush the thrushes sing,
But more I love to hear, “Cuckoo!
Cuckoo! Cuckoo!”
Thy voice puts joy in everything,
And takes from sorrow half its sting;
Recalling days that quickly flew,
Pleasures long past thou dost renew,
And the old sunshine round me fling,
Cuckoo! Cuckoo!
And takes from sorrow half its sting;
Recalling days that quickly flew,
Pleasures long past thou dost renew,
And the old sunshine round me fling,
Cuckoo! Cuckoo!
266
XVIII. THE TIME WILL COME.
The time will come, O love! the day
When at your side I may not stay,
And you shall see my face no more;
Though sad the parting, bitter, sore,
There comes a call I must obey.
When at your side I may not stay,
And you shall see my face no more;
Though sad the parting, bitter, sore,
There comes a call I must obey.
'Gainst this it boots not that we pray;
I must arise and take the way
That many friends have ta'en before:
The time will come!
I must arise and take the way
That many friends have ta'en before:
The time will come!
And tell me, dearest, yea, or nay?
Robs it the sunshine of one ray,
To know that I must go before,
Be first to reach the farther shore;
And aches your heart for that I say
The time will come?
Robs it the sunshine of one ray,
To know that I must go before,
Be first to reach the farther shore;
And aches your heart for that I say
The time will come?
267
XIX. MARY OF BETHANY.
O happy maid, who at the feet
Of Jesus found a safe retreat,
Who looked into His face benign,
And listened to the words divine
That made her heart with music beat!
Of Jesus found a safe retreat,
Who looked into His face benign,
And listened to the words divine
That made her heart with music beat!
No tumult of the dusty street,
Disturbs her in that quiet seat,
Near to the True and Loving Vine,
O happy maid!
Disturbs her in that quiet seat,
Near to the True and Loving Vine,
O happy maid!
Dear Saviour, give me, I entreat,
Communion high, and close, and sweet;
Let Mary's privilege be mine,
Like Mary make me wholly Thine;
For hers a joy supreme, complete,
O happy maid!
Communion high, and close, and sweet;
Let Mary's privilege be mine,
Like Mary make me wholly Thine;
For hers a joy supreme, complete,
O happy maid!
| Poems Old and New by Charles D. Bell | |