Poems By the author of "The Patience of Hope" [i.e. Dora Greenwell] |
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TO AN EARLY FRIEND. |
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151
TO AN EARLY FRIEND.
Beneath the tree we played
Together, Thou and I! the sunshine fell
Betwixt the boughs, and on our faces laid
A loving finger, marking, where it strayed,
A Dial for the hours, whose very shade
Was but a softened brightness, for the place
Wherein we dwelt was Eden! Through the wild
The man must journey, yet methinks the child
Should stay within the garden! with the Race
Should run the mortal's history, and trace
From those blest bowers its chequered chronicle!
Together, Thou and I! the sunshine fell
Betwixt the boughs, and on our faces laid
A loving finger, marking, where it strayed,
A Dial for the hours, whose very shade
Was but a softened brightness, for the place
Wherein we dwelt was Eden! Through the wild
The man must journey, yet methinks the child
Should stay within the garden! with the Race
Should run the mortal's history, and trace
From those blest bowers its chequered chronicle!
We played beneath the Tree;
We did not pluck the apple; little taste
Was ours for fruit of knowledge! little haste
To lift unbidden hands when ours were full
Of flowers and purpled berries, beautiful,
That grew around us; but the apple fell
Beside our feet, and through its sight and smell
Instructed, now we good and evil knew,—
So must we bid that pleasant place Farewell.
We did not pluck the apple; little taste
Was ours for fruit of knowledge! little haste
To lift unbidden hands when ours were full
Of flowers and purpled berries, beautiful,
That grew around us; but the apple fell
Beside our feet, and through its sight and smell
Instructed, now we good and evil knew,—
So must we bid that pleasant place Farewell.
152
Yet well for us that there
We dwelt awhile! oh, well for us to make
Acquaintance soon with all things glad and fair;
To have them for our earliest friends! to take
These playmates to our bosoms ere more stern
Companions meet us, for they oft return
And hold us by the hand, and for the sake
Of Eden love us! Now its Angel knows
Our faces through all change, and oft from far
Hath smiled upon us kind; he will not close
The gate so surely, but that Love ajar
Hath held it for a space, and Dreams aside
Have turned the Flaming Sword, and been our Guide
O'er half-forgotten tracks; and on the wind,
Like kisses blown upon it, greetings kind
Send whispers after us, to half recall
Half-presage glories, that no Primal Fall
Hath robbed us of; for Heaven had been less near
Had we not gazed up to it through the clear
Calm eastern skies, that, waking or asleep,
Bent o'er us in our childhood like a deep
Unvexed, unfathomed sea, when it was Prayer
To know, that day and night upon us there
Our Father's eyes looked down;
We dwelt awhile! oh, well for us to make
Acquaintance soon with all things glad and fair;
To have them for our earliest friends! to take
These playmates to our bosoms ere more stern
Companions meet us, for they oft return
And hold us by the hand, and for the sake
Of Eden love us! Now its Angel knows
Our faces through all change, and oft from far
Hath smiled upon us kind; he will not close
The gate so surely, but that Love ajar
Hath held it for a space, and Dreams aside
Have turned the Flaming Sword, and been our Guide
O'er half-forgotten tracks; and on the wind,
Like kisses blown upon it, greetings kind
Send whispers after us, to half recall
Half-presage glories, that no Primal Fall
Hath robbed us of; for Heaven had been less near
Had we not gazed up to it through the clear
Calm eastern skies, that, waking or asleep,
Bent o'er us in our childhood like a deep
Unvexed, unfathomed sea, when it was Prayer
To know, that day and night upon us there
Our Father's eyes looked down;
“Our Father!” First
And Last in Love's blest language! we were nurst
Within Thy breast, Thy sapphire floor for roof
Was over us; and now less far aloof
We view Thy awful Throne, that then we played
Beneath Thy footstool, and were not afraid!
And Last in Love's blest language! we were nurst
Within Thy breast, Thy sapphire floor for roof
Was over us; and now less far aloof
We view Thy awful Throne, that then we played
Beneath Thy footstool, and were not afraid!
153
And well for me that there
We played together! in my heart, thy Book
Beloved from olden days, thou wouldst not look
So oft or fondly, maybe, flung aside
With childish things, but for its margin wide
With pictures stored! Yet now we will not take
This love of ours to pieces; who would strew
A blossom, leaf by leaf, to learn it grew
As grow the flowers? Now love me for the sake
Of blessed Eden; if thou wilt, believe
Me fairer than I am! it will not grieve
My soul to borrow of thy wealth, and be
Attired in splendour that belongs to Thee:
Thou givest freely, for the heart is wise
And bountiful and rich; with naked eyes
It seeth never; like a child that takes
Some thing of little price that nearest lies
To be its treasure, well content it makes
From out its very joy its Paradise!
We played together! in my heart, thy Book
Beloved from olden days, thou wouldst not look
So oft or fondly, maybe, flung aside
With childish things, but for its margin wide
With pictures stored! Yet now we will not take
This love of ours to pieces; who would strew
A blossom, leaf by leaf, to learn it grew
As grow the flowers? Now love me for the sake
Of blessed Eden; if thou wilt, believe
Me fairer than I am! it will not grieve
My soul to borrow of thy wealth, and be
Attired in splendour that belongs to Thee:
Thou givest freely, for the heart is wise
And bountiful and rich; with naked eyes
It seeth never; like a child that takes
Some thing of little price that nearest lies
To be its treasure, well content it makes
From out its very joy its Paradise!
| Poems | |