Annie--Oh! what a weary while
It seems since that sad day;
When whispering a fond "good bye,"
I tore myself away.
And yet, 'tis only two short years;
How has it seemed to thee?
To me, those lonesome years appear
Like an eternity.
We loved,--Ah, me! how much we loved;
How happy passed the day
When pouring forth enraptured vows,
The charmed hours passed away.
In every leaf we beauty saw,--
In every song and sound,
Some sweet entrancing melody,
To soothe our hearts we found.
And now it haunts me as a dream,--
A thing that could not be!--
That one so pure and beautiful
Could ever care for me.
But I still have the nut-brown curl,
Which tells me it is true;
And in my fancy I can see
The brow where once it grew.
Those eyes, whose pensive, loving light,
Did thrill me through and through:
Still follow me by day and night,
As they were wont to do.
Thy smile still haunts me, and thy voice,
At times I seem to hear;
And when the scented zephyrs pass
I fancy thou art near.
'Twill not be long, dear heart, (although
It will seem long to me;)
Until I clasp thee once again;
To part no more from thee.
Though storms may roar, and oceans rage
And furies vent their spleen;--
There's naught shall keep me from my love;
My beautiful;--my queen!
Now and Then.
Did we but know what lurks beyond the NOW;
Could we but see what the dim future hides;
Had we some power occult that would us show
The joy and sorrow which in THEN abides;
Would life be happier,--or less fraught with woe,
Did we but know?
I long, yet fear to pierce those clouds ahead;--
To solve life's secrets,--learn what means this death.
Are fresh joys waiting for the silent dead?
Or do we perish with am fleeting breath?
If not; then whither will the spirit go?
Did we but know.
'Tis all a mist. Reason can naught explain,
We dream and scheme for what to-morrow brings;
We sleep, perchance, and never wake again,
Nor taste life's joys, or suffer sorrow's stings.
Will the soul soar, or will it sink below?
How can we know.
"You must have Faith!"--How can a mortal weak,
Pin faith on what he cannot comprehend?
We grope for light,--but all in vain we seek,
Oblivion seems poor mortal's truest friend.
Like bats at noonday, blindly on we go,
For naught we know.
Yet, why should we repine? Could we but see
Our lifelong journey with its ups and downs!
Ambition, hope and longings all would flee,
Indifferent alike to smiles and frowns.
'Tis better as it is. It must be so.
We ne'er can know.
The Open Gates.
My heart was sad when first we met;
'Yet with a smile,--
A welcome smile I ne'er forget,
Thou didst beguile
My sighs and sorrows;-and a sweet delight
Shed a soft radiance, where erst was night.
I dreamed not we should meet again;--
But fate was kind,
Once more my heart o'er fraught with pain,
To joy inclined.
It seemed thy soul had power to penetrate
My inmost self, changing at will my state.
Then sprang the thought:--Be thou my Queen!
I will be slave;
Make here thy throne and reign supreme,
'Tis all I crave.
Let me within thy soothing influence dwell,
Content to know, with thee all must be well.
I knew not that another claimed
By prior right,
Those charms that had my breast inflamed
With fancies bright.
Ah! then I recognized my loneliness:--
My dreams dispelled;--still I admired no less.
Time wearily dragged on its way,--
We met once more,
And thou wert free! Oh, happy day!
As sight of shore
Cheers the worn mariner;--so sight of thee,
Made my heart beat with sweet expectancy.
Is it too much to hope,--someday
This heart of mine,
That beats alone for thee,--yet may
Thy love enshrine?
All things are said to come to him who waits,
I'm waiting, darling.--Love, opes wide the gates.
Blue Bells.
Bonny little Blue-bells
Mid young brackens green,
'Neath the hedgerows peeping
Modestly between;
Telling us that Summer
Is not far away,
When your beauties blend with
Blossoms of the May.
Sturdy, tangled hawthorns,
Fleck'd with white or red,
Whilst their nutty incense,
All around is shed.
Bonny drooping Blue-bells,
Happy you must be
With your beauties sheltered
'Neath such fragrant tree.
You need fear no rival,--
Other blossoms blown,
With their varied beauties
But enhance your own.
Steals the soft wind gently,
'Round th' enchanted spot,
Sets your bells a-ringing
Though we hear them not.
Idle Fancy wanders
As you shake and swing,
Our hearts shape the message
We would have you bring.
Dreams of happy Springtimes
We hope yet to share;
Vague, but pleasant visions
All to melt in air.
Children's merry voices
Break your witching spells,
Chubby hands are clasping
Languishing Blue-bells.
Gay and happy children
Hop and skip along,
With their ringing laughter,
Sweet as skylark's song.
Slowly soon I follow
Through the rustic lane,
But the sight that greets me
Gives me pang of pain.
Strewed upon the pathway,
Fairy Blue-bells lie,
Trampled, crushed and wilted,
Cast away to die.
Yet they lived not vainly
Though their life was brief,
Shedding gleams of gladness
O'er a world of grief.
And they taught a lesson,--
Rightly understood;
By their mute endeavour
Striving to do good.