LONG AGO.

The sun was swimming in the purple tide,

His golden locks far floating on the sea,

When thou and I stole beachward, side by side,

To say adieu and dream of joys to be.

The ebbing waves were whispering to the strand

Amid the rocks a tender, sweet good-bye--

Ah! Well that night could we two understand

What bitter grief was in their ceaseless cry.

The salt wind blew across the rank marsh grass,

And laid its chilling, fingers on our pulse.

Sea nettles lay in many a shapeless mass,

Half hidden, in the garnet hills of dulse.

The awkward crabs ran sideways from our path,

And starfish sprawled face downward in the mud;

While, token of some bleak December's wrath,

A wreck lay stranded high above the flood.

Few were our words. Love speaks from heart to heart,

Nor needs that rude interpreter the tongue.

A few short hours and fate would bid us part,

No more to stray the weedy rocks among.

We dared not trust our bitter thoughts to speech.

For speech had raised the floodgates of our tears;

And so we walked in silence on the beach

With the wild billows wailing in our ears.

How beautiful thou wast! Thy snowy gown,

Whose rustle made sweet music, part revealed

Thy perfect form. Thy thoughtful eyes and brown,

Beneath their drooping lashes half concealed,

Swam in a sea of tears. Thy tresses played

Wild wanton with the wind, and kissed each cheek,

That flushed and paled, till one had well nigh said.

Thy very blood did think and love and speak.

We sat within the shelter of the boat.

That, buried in the sand for half its length,

Before the black-browed storm no more would float

Nor like a gull defy the tempest's strength.

We spoke of pleasures past, of joys to be

When we should meet again nor ever part.

I faltered forth my deathless love for thee,

And in thy tearful silence read thy heart.

We looked upon the setting of the sun;

We marked the summer twilight fade away;

We saw the star-worlds rising, one by one,

And, stooping, kiss the surface of the bay.

Then sitting in the moonlight, each by each,

I bent and kissed away thy lingering tears;

While ever plunged the billows on the beach

And sent their dreary cadence to our ears.

The sun was swimming in the purple tide,

His golden locks far floating on the sea,

When I stole forth yestre'en and sat beside

The stranded wreck to dream again of thee.

Across my cheek I felt the marsh wind sweep,

Still called the sea along the darkening shore,

Again the changeless stars began to peep;

Naught save thyself had changed since days of yore.

O! happy period of my early youth!

When Love was master, Reason but a slave,

When friends seemed heroes, woman crystal truth,

Success the certain portion of the brave:

Come back, come back and give me ere I die

The pure ideal of my life again!

In vain I plead. Time's snowy ashes lie

Cold on the hearth-stone of my aged brain.

_AT CHATEAUGUAY._

Memory gleams like a gem at night

Through the gloom of to-day for me,

Bringing dreams of a summer bright

At Chateauguay.

Summer sleeps in the ripening corn,

Sunlight glitters on wood and lea,

Scent of flowers on the air is borne

At Chateauguay.

Swiftly rushes the river by,

Through the lake to the far-off sea,

Full of light as a maiden's eye,

At Chateauguay.

Stands a house by the river side,

(Weeds upspring where the hearth should be),

Only its tottering walls abide

At Chateauguay.

Birds are singing the live-long day,

Trembling, stoopeth an aspen tree.

Eager to hear what the wind will say

At Chateauguay.

Still the sunlight around me falls,

Still in fancy I seem to see

Two who stand on the crumbling walls

At Chateauguay.

Once more wanders a brown-eyed maid

Up the rough, country road with me,

Swinging her hat by its slender braid,

At Chateauguay.

Once for a moment more we stay

Under the tattling aspen tree--

Birds are sweetly lilting to-day

At Chateauguay.

Tree, thou art dear for that sweet tryst,

Dear, for the maiden's sake, to me

Is each spot that her feet have kissed

At Chateauguay.

_A BIRTHDAY_.

Fifteen years have come and gone,

Maiden since thy large, brown eyes

Opened first and looked upon

Wintry English skies.

Fifteen treasure ships they were,

Sailing on life's sunlit sea,

Bearing frankincense and myrrh

Sent from heaven to thee:

Fifteen pilgrims, old and gray,

Mounted upon moments fleet,

Who have seen thee but to lay

Pleasure at thy feet:

Fifteen maids who, like a queen,

Decked thee, Sweet, with beauty rare,

Till the world hath never seen

Maiden half so fair.

And a sixteenth year to-day

Brings a wreath of budding hours,

Saying: "Let not one decay;

All must grow to flowers."

All have not the self-same needs;

Loving smiles are life to some,

Others but by kindly deeds.

To perfection come.

Some are quickened by a tear,

Some by hopes and pleasures dead;

Take them, Bright Eyes, without fear,

God is overhead.

_THE LOVERS._

With silken tresses floating free,

A dark-eyed maiden wanders

Alone beside the murmuring sea,

And of her lover ponders.

The fisher boats at anchor ride,

The summer moon is waking;

Its beams of silver on the tide

In rippling flakes are breaking.

The golden sands in murmurs speak,

Her dainty foot that presses,

The salt sea wind upon her cheek

Is lavish of caresses.

Afar upon a winding stream

A youth is softly rowing;

Above his head the star-worlds gleam,

And bright the moon is glowing.

The trees are swaying to and fro,

Their shadowy boughs extending,

And leaf-born music, sweet and low,

Is with the night-wind blending.

Far off, where meadows kiss the stream,

A golden light is winking:

Upon the waves its soft rays gleam,

From crest to hollow sinking.

Upon the youth and maiden's heart

The lamp of love is shining,

Though distance holds them both apart,

Their souls are intertwining.

_THE SEA SHELL._

'Tis a dainty shell, 'tis a fragile shell

At my feet that the wild waves threw,

And I send it thee, that its lips may tell

In thine ear that my heart is true.

It will tell thee how by the sunlit sea

Pass the hours we were wont to share.

On its pearl-pink lips is a kiss for thee

That my own loving lips placed there.

In a lady's hand it will snugly lie,

'Tis as thin as a red rose-leaf,

Yet it holds the seagull's sorrowing cry,

And the roar of the tide-lashed reef.

In its ivory cave, though the mighty sea

May find room, and to spare, to move,

Yet this same sea shell that I send to thee

Is too small to contain my love.

_A JANUARY DAY._

King Winter sleeps. His daughter, Spring,

His sceptre steals away,

And, laughing, bids fair Nature bring

For once a perfect day.

Bright glows the sun in azure skies,

And balmy blows the breeze,

On gayer wing the sparrow flies,

And softly sway the trees.

The seasons run like some great stream

That to the ocean flows,

The waves that _here_ in sunshine gleam

Bound _there_ in mountain snows:

And, as where darkling waters steal,

Drear walls of rock between,

Yet in their depths a gem reveal

That glows with sunny sheen.

So in this blustering month that bears

The banner of the year,

Such days as this with balmy airs

Amid the storms appear.

It is but meet that thy birthday

Should open bright and warm,

And into darkness fade away

Without a cloud or storm.

_REMEMBRANCE_

Alone I pace the path we walked last year.

Dost thou remember it? Then everywhere

The wheat-fields shimmered in the summer glare,

But now the moonbeams sparkle, silver clear,

On swollen stream and meadows dun and drear,

While, with the myriad blossoms that they bear,

The cherry trees perfume the evening air,

And gaunt and cold the ruined house stands near.

The aspens whisper to the passing breeze.

I hear the night-hawk's scream, the pipe of frogs,

The baying of the distant village dogs,

The lapping waves, the rustle of the trees.

And every sound is musical to me,

For every sound is a sweet song of thee.

_IN ABSENCE._

Sleep, dearest, sleep beside the murmuring sea;

Sleep, dearest, sleep, and bright dreams compass thee.

My sleepless thoughts a guard of love shall be

Around thy couch and bid thee dream of me.

Sleep, Bright Eyes, sleep.

Sleep, dearest, sleep, the slumber of the pure;

Sleep, dearest, sleep, in angels' care secure.

Evil itself thy beauty would allure

To cease from ill and make thy joyance sure.

Sleep, Bright Eyes, sleep.

Sleep, dearest, sleep; in slumber thou art mine;

Sleep, dearest, sleep; our souls still intertwine.

Yon radiant star that on thy couch doth shine

Bears from my lips a kiss to lay on thine.

Sleep, Bright Eyes, sleep.

_LOVE GUIDES US._

Love guides our bark, and we have naught to fear.

We are the world ourselves, and as we glide

Upon the stream of life, if Love but steer,

We care not how tempestuous the tide.

Thy head leans on my shoulder, and my arm

Is round thee clasped. Thine eyes upturn to mine,

So full of faith the future feels their charm

Blunting Fate's dart that threatens joy of thine.

O Love! thy tresses wind about my sense,

Thy glances melt my soul, and thy ripe lips

Seem morning roses, red and dewy, whence

The bee of love a draught of nectar sips.

Float on, float on upon the crystal tide,

Our company these snowy swans that seem

Our mirrored souls, pure love personified--

Float on, nor ever waken from our dream.

_THE LOVER'S APPEAL._

Tell me when you'll wed me?

Sweetest, name the day:

Hope has well nigh fled me,

Joy has slipped away.

Dearest, why this strange delay?

Must I sigh till we are gray?

With a smile,

"Wait awhile,

We are young," you say.

Do you know the reason

Why the nightingale

Through the drear night season

Pipes her tuneful tale?

She was, once, like you, a maid,

Who her wedding day delayed,

And her swain,

All in vain,

For her favor prayed.

She had been a maiden

Fair to look upon,

Sweet as breezes laden

With the scent of dawn.

But her lover prayed that she

Rest not till eternity.

Heaven heard,

And this bird,

She was doomed to be.

Can you read the moral,

Of this mournful tale?

Sweetheart, if we quarrel,

To a nightingale

I will change you, though I weep,

You shall sing and never sleep.

With the owl

You shall prowl

Where the shades lie deep.

Tell me when you'll marry;

Darling, name the day:

Do not longer tarry,

Life slips fast away.

Do not, like the nightingale,

Live your harshness to bewail.

At your feet

I entreat--

Let my love prevail.

Fleurs De Lys, and Other Poems · 第 30 / 59 题