Poems By the author of "The Patience of Hope" [i.e. Dora Greenwell] |
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180
VIII.
Thou camest in a dream,—
So sudden taken from my life that now
'Mid all Earth's strangeness, it would strangest seem
To feel thy hand meet mine in greeting,—Thou
That clasped it once so close! but seas have swept
Between us, silken Spring-times have unrolled
Their bursting green, wild Autumns shaken gold
Upon our paths, since last I looked on thee;
And on our Life's great organ suddenly
Have keys gone silent, whence the music rolled
In blissful waves; but still through manifold
Swift change and dreary pause our hearts have kept
(Like quiet watchers left in peace to hold
A tryst with Thought, while others deemed they slept)
The steadfast secret of our Love untold.
So sudden taken from my life that now
'Mid all Earth's strangeness, it would strangest seem
To feel thy hand meet mine in greeting,—Thou
That clasped it once so close! but seas have swept
Between us, silken Spring-times have unrolled
Their bursting green, wild Autumns shaken gold
Upon our paths, since last I looked on thee;
And on our Life's great organ suddenly
Have keys gone silent, whence the music rolled
In blissful waves; but still through manifold
Swift change and dreary pause our hearts have kept
(Like quiet watchers left in peace to hold
A tryst with Thought, while others deemed they slept)
The steadfast secret of our Love untold.
Together and alone
We stood: they have not loved who have not known
What meaning lies in those two words—alone,
Together and alone!
We stood: they have not loved who have not known
What meaning lies in those two words—alone,
Together and alone!
And ever went a dash
Of tinkling, chiming waters through my dream,
As of a brook that sends a quiet flash
Through tangled boughs, and ever golden brown
From wet bright stone to stone goes lapsing down;
There oft we stood with hands together locked,
And lips whose gay and wandering converse mocked
The deeper oracles that ran below
Light words, light leaves, clear waters in their flow—
Till through those wood-aisles dim
A breath of soul, a consecration-hymn
Rose gradual on the summer's sunset glow.
Of tinkling, chiming waters through my dream,
181
Through tangled boughs, and ever golden brown
From wet bright stone to stone goes lapsing down;
There oft we stood with hands together locked,
And lips whose gay and wandering converse mocked
The deeper oracles that ran below
Light words, light leaves, clear waters in their flow—
Till through those wood-aisles dim
A breath of soul, a consecration-hymn
Rose gradual on the summer's sunset glow.
Then came an hour that tore
Our lives asunder, but within my dream
Far, far away did change and parting seem
As waves that chide upon some distant shore;
Our hands were locked, our lips—we did not speak,
Our very souls were locked,—we did not seek
For word, or look, or outward token more;
It was not Heaven, because we were not glad,
It was not Earth, no future made us sad,
But in a calm, unshadowed land between,
Our spirits loosened from their bonds terrene
Did meet, and commune in a language clear,
Of things that they had known and suffered here—
And I awoke and knew thou hadst been near!
Our lives asunder, but within my dream
Far, far away did change and parting seem
As waves that chide upon some distant shore;
Our hands were locked, our lips—we did not speak,
Our very souls were locked,—we did not seek
For word, or look, or outward token more;
It was not Heaven, because we were not glad,
It was not Earth, no future made us sad,
But in a calm, unshadowed land between,
Our spirits loosened from their bonds terrene
Did meet, and commune in a language clear,
Of things that they had known and suffered here—
And I awoke and knew thou hadst been near!
| Poems | |