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The Project Gutenberg eBook of Verses, by Edith Wharton.
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<body>
<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 55807 ***</div>
<hr class="full" />
<p class="c">
<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="337" height="500" alt="" />
</p>
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary=""
style="border:double 6px black;margin:2em auto 2em auto;
max-width:40%;padding:3em;">
<tr><td class="cb"><big><big>Contents</big></big></td></tr>
<tr><td>
<a href="#Sonnets"><b>Sonnets.</b></a><br />
<a href="#Spring_Song"><b>Spring Song.</b></a><br />
<a href="#Prophecies_of_Summer"><b>Prophecies of Summer.</b></a><br />
<a href="#Song"><b>Song.</b></a><br />
<a href="#Heaven"><b>Heaven.</b></a><br />
<a href="#Maiden_Arise"><b>“Maiden, Arise.”</b></a><br />
<a href="#Spring"><b>Spring.</b></a><br />
<a href="#May_Marian"><b>May Marian.</b></a><br />
<a href="#Opportunities"><b>Opportunities.</b></a><br />
<a href="#The_Last_Token"><b>“The Last Token.”</b></a><br />
<a href="#Raffaelle_to_the_Fornarina"><b>Raffaelle to the Fornarina.</b></a><br />
<a href="#Chriemhild_of_Burgundy"><b>Chriemhild of Burgundy.</b></a><br />
<a href="#Some_Woman_to_Some_Man"><b>Some Woman to Some Man.</b></a><br />
<a href="#Lines_on_Chaucer"><b>Lines on Chaucer.</b></a><br />
<a href="#What_We_Shall_Say_Fifty_Years_Hence_OF_OUR_FANCY-DRESS_QUADRILLE"><b>What We Shall Say Fifty Years Hence, <small>OF OUR FANCY-DRESS QUADRILLE.</small></b></a><br />
<a href="#Nothing_More"><b>Nothing More.</b></a><br />
<a href="#June_and_December"><b>June and December.</b></a><br />
<a href="#October"><b>October.</b></a><br />
<a href="#A_Woman_I_Know"><b>A Woman I Know.</b></a><br />
<a href="#Daisies"><b>Daisies.</b></a><br />
<a href="#Impromptu"><b>Impromptu.</b></a><br />
<a href="#Notre_Dame_des_Fleurs"><b>Notre Dame des Fleurs.</b></a><br />
<a href="#Translations_from_the_German"><b>Translations from the German.</b></a><br />
<a href="#Longing"><b>Longing.</b></a></td></tr>
</table>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_001" id="page_001"></a>{1}</span></p>
<div class="bbox">
<h1>
<img src="images/verses.jpg"
width="300"
alt="VERSES."
/>
</h1>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">“<i>Be friendly, pray, to these fancies of mine.</i>”<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12">—<span class="smcap">Bettine Brentano.</span><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="c">
<img src="images/verses2.jpg"
width="300"
alt=""
/>
<br /><br /><small>
NEWPORT, R. I.,<br />
C. E. HAMMETT,
<span class="smcap">Jr.</span>,<br />1878.</small>
</p>
</div>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_006.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_002" id="page_002"></a>{2}</span> </p>
<p class="cfiga"><img src="images/i_007a.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_003" id="page_003"></a>{3}</span></p>
<h2><a name="Sonnets" id="Sonnets"></a>
Sonnets.</h2>
<h3>I. LE VIOL D’AMOUR.</h3>
<div class="blockquot"><p>(An Organ-stop.)</p></div>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">O soft, caressing sound, more sweet than scent<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Of violets in woody hollows! Tone<br /></span>
<span class="i0">As amorous as the ring-dove’s tender moan<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Beneath the spreading forest’s leafy tent;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">What mystery of earth or air hath lent<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Thee that bewitching music, where the drone<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Of Summer bees in dewy buds new blown<br /></span>
<span class="i0">With trembling, fainting melody is blent?<br /></span>
<span class="i0">What master did conceive thee, as the sound<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Most fit to woo his lady from her rest,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">What wakeful maiden in thy wooing found<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The passion of her lover first exprest,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And from her silken pillows, beauty-crowned,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Stept forth and smiled on him who loved her best?<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12"><i>November 10th, 1875.</i><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_007b.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_004" id="page_004"></a>{4}</span></p>
<p class="cfiga"><img src="images/i_008a.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<h3>II. VESPERS.</h3>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">It is the vesper hour, and in yon aisle<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Where fainting incense clouds the heavy air<br /></span>
<span class="i0">My lady’s kneeling at her evening prayer,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Alone and silently; for in a file<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The choristers have passed, and left her there,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Where martyrs from the tinted windows stare,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And saints look downward with a holy smile<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Upon her meek devotions, while the day<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Fades slowly, and a tender amber light<br /></span>
<span class="i0">From coloured panes about her head doth play—<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Her veil falls like a shade, and ghostly white<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Her clasped hands glimmer through the deepening gray;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">So will she kneel, until from Heaven’s height<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The Angels bend to hear their sister pray.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12"><i>November 11th, 1875.</i><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_008b.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_005" id="page_005"></a>{5}</span></p>
<p class="cfiga"><img src="images/i_009a.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<h3>III. BETTINE TO GOETHE.</h3>
<div class="blockquot"><p>“Be friendly, pray, with these fancies of mine.” <span class="smcap">Bettine.</span></p></div>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Could youth discrown thy head of its gray hair,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">I could not love it as I love it now;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Could one grand line be smoothed from thy brow,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">’Twould seem to me less stately and less fair.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">O no, be as thou art! For thou dost wear<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The signs of noble age that cannot bow<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Thine intellect like thy form, and I who know<br /></span>
<span class="i0">How each year that did visibly impair<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Thy first fresh youth, left inwardly such grand<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And gracious gifts, would rather have thee so—<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Believe me, master, who erect doth stand<br /></span>
<span class="i0">In soul and purpose, age cannot lay low<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Till he receive, new from the Father’s hand<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The youth he did but outwardly forego.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12"><i>April, 1876.</i><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_009b.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_006" id="page_006"></a>{6}</span></p>
<h2><a name="Spring_Song" id="Spring_Song"></a>Spring Song.</h2>
<div class="blockquot"><p>“O primavera! Gioventù dell’ anno.”</p></div>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">The first warm buds that break their covers,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">The first young twigs that burst in green,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The first blade that the sun discovers,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Starting the loosened earth between.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">The pale soft sky, so clear and tender,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">With little clouds that break and fly;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The crocus, earliest pretender<br /></span>
<span class="i2">To the low breezes passing by;<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">The chirp and twitter of brown builders,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">A couple in a tree, at least;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The watchful wisdom of the elders<br /></span>
<span class="i2">For callow younglings in the nest;<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">The flush of branches with fair blossoms,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">The deepening of the faint green boughs,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">As leaf by leaf the crown grows fuller<br /></span>
<span class="i2">That binds the young Spring’s rosy brows;<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">New promise every day of sweetness,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">The next bright dawn is sure to bring;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Slow breaking into green completeness,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Fresh rapture of the early Spring!<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12"><i>May, 1876.</i><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_007" id="page_007"></a>{7}</span></p>
<h2><a name="Prophecies_of_Summer" id="Prophecies_of_Summer"></a>Prophecies of Summer.</h2>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">I found a wee leaf in the cleft<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Where the half-melted ice had left<br /></span>
<span class="i0">A sunny corner, moist and warm,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">For it to bud, beyond all harm.<br /></span>
<span class="i3">The wet, brown sod,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Long horned with ice, had slowly grown<br /></span>
<span class="i0">So soft, the tender seedling blown<br /></span>
<span class="i0">By Autumn winds, in earliest Spring<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Sent through the sun-warmed covering,<br /></span>
<span class="i3">Its little leaf to God.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">I found it there, beneath a ledge,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The dawning Spring time’s fairest pledge,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And to my mind it dimly brought<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The sudden, joyous, leafy thought<br /></span>
<span class="i3">Of Summer-time.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">I plucked it from the sheltered cleft<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Which the more kindly ice had left.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Within my hand to drop and die,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">But for its sweet suggestions, I<br /></span>
<span class="i3">Revive it in a rhyme.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12"><i>1876.</i><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_008" id="page_008"></a>{8}</span></p>
<h2><a name="Song" id="Song"></a>
Song.</h2>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">O Love, where are the hours fled,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">The hours of our young delight?<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Are they forever gone and dead,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Or only vanished out of sight?<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">O can it be that we shall live<br /></span>
<span class="i2">To know once more the joys gone by,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">To feel the old, deep love revive,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">And smile again before we die?<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Could I but fancy it might be,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Could I the past bring back again,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And for one moment, holding thee,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Forget the present and its pain!<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">O Love, those hours are past away<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Beyond our longing and our sighs—<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Perhaps the Angels, some bright day,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Will give them back in Paradise!<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12"><i>August, 1876.</i><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_009" id="page_009"></a>{9}</span></p>
<h2><a name="Heaven" id="Heaven"></a>Heaven.</h2>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Not over roof and spire doth Heaven lie,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Star-sentinelled from our humanity,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Beyond the humble reach of every day.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And only near us when we weep or pray;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">But rather in the household and the street,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Where loudest is the noise of hurrying feet,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Where hearts beat thickest, where our duties call,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Where watchers sit, where tears in silence fall.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">We know not, or forget, there is no line<br /></span>
<span class="i0">That marks our human off from our divine;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">For all one household, all one family<br /></span>
<span class="i0">In different chamberings labouring are we;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">God leaves the doors between them open wide,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Knowing how life and death are close allied,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And though across the threshold, in the gloom,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">We cannot see into that other room,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">It may be that the dear ones watching there<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Can hear our cry of passionate despair,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And wait unseen to lead us through the door<br /></span>
<span class="i0">When twilight comes, and all our work is o’er.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12"><i>January, 1877.</i><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_010" id="page_010"></a>{10}</span></p>
<h2><a name="Maiden_Arise" id="Maiden_Arise"></a><img src="images/i_014a.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /><br /><br />
“Maiden, Arise.”</h2>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">She, whom through life her God forbade to hear<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The voices of her nearest and most dear,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">So that she dwelt, amid the hum and rush<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Of cities, in a vast, eternal hush,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Yet heard the first low calling of the voice<br /></span>
<span class="i0">That others had not heeded in the noise,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And rising, when it whispered “Come with me,”<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Followed the form that others could not see,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Smiling, perchance, in death at last to hear<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The voices of the Angels fill her ear,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">While the great, silent void that closed her round<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Was overflowed with rippled floods of sound,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And the dumb past in Alleluias drowned.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12"><i>March, 1877.</i><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_014b.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_011" id="page_011"></a>{11}</span></p>
<h2><a name="Spring" id="Spring"></a>Spring.</h2>
<div class="blockquot"><p>A Fragment.</p></div>
<h3><span class="smcap">Hildegard.</span></h3>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">It is the time when everything<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Is flusht with presage of the Spring,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">When every leaf and twig and bud<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Feels new life rushing like a flood<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Through greening veins and bursting tips;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">When every hour a sunbeam slips<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Across a sleepy flower’s mouth,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And wakes it, babbling of the South;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">When birds are doubtful where or how<br /></span>
<span class="i0">To hang their nests on trunk or bough,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And all that is in wood or croft<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Beneath an influence balmy-soft<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Towards the light begins to strive,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Feeling how good it is to live!<br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<h3><span class="smcap">Walther.</span></h3>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">How beautiful thou standest there,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Thyself a prophet of the May!<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The shining of thy golden hair<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Would melt December’s snows away.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_012" id="page_012"></a>{12}</span><br /></span>
<span class="i0">The roses on thy cheeks would woo<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Forth envious blossoms from their sleeps.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And robins plume their breasts anew<br /></span>
<span class="i2">To mock the crimson of thy lips.<br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<h3><span class="smcap">Hildegard.</span></h3>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">But where would be the golden tresses,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">With ribands bravely intertwined<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And where the roses, that thy praises<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Have opened like a Summer wind,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Wert thou, my love, my Knight, not here,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">To make these empty beauties dear?<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The Spring would never deck her train<br /></span>
<span class="i0">In such a fair and winsome wise<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Did she not seek by smiles to chain<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The sun her royal lover’s eyes.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12"><i>1876.</i><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_016.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_013" id="page_013"></a>{13}</span></p>
<h2><a name="May_Marian" id="May_Marian"></a>May Marian.</h2>
<h3>A BALLAD.</h3>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">In our town there dwelt a maiden<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Whom the folk called Marian;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">In her narrow gabled casement<br /></span>
<span class="i2">All day long she sat and span.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Till a gentleman came riding<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Through our town one Summer day,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Spied May Marian at the casement,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Stole her silly heart away.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Then she up and left her spinning,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Laid aside her russet gown,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">In a footboy’s cap and mantle<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Followed him to London town.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">There he led her to a mansion<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Standing by the river side;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">“In that mansion dwells the lady<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Who is my betrothed bride;<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">“Gif thou’lt be her serving-maiden,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Thou shalt wear a braw red gown,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_014" id="page_014"></a>{14}</span><br /></span>
<span class="i0">Follow her to mass on Sunday<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Through the streets of London town;<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">“But if thou’lt not be her maiden,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Turn about and get thee home;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">’Tis not meet that country wenches<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Through the city here should roam.”<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Not a word in answer spake she;<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Weeping sore she turned away,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And alone she gat her homeward,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Travelling till the fall of day.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">To our town she came at gloaming,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Softly tirled she at the door;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Whispered: “let me in, sweet mother,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">I will wander never more.”<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">“I will turn me to my spinning,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">I will don my russet gown;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Home is best for country lasses,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Men are false in London town.”<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">But the door was shut against her,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">To her prayer came answer none.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">All night long alone she wandered,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Wandered weeping through our town.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">But at dawn she was aweary—<br /></span>
<span class="i2">In the street she laid her down;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_015" id="page_015"></a>{15}</span><br /></span>
<span class="i0">And they found her dead at sunrise<br /></span>
<span class="i2">With her head upon a stone.<br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<h3><span class="smcap">Moral.</span></h3>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Ladies, listen to my ballad:<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Maidens are too lightly won;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Home is best for country lasses,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Men are false in London town.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12"><i>1876.</i><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_019.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_016" id="page_016"></a>{16}</span></p>
<h2><a name="Opportunities" id="Opportunities"></a><img src="images/i_020a.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /><br /><br />
Opportunities.</h2>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Who knows his opportunities? They come<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Not trumpet-tongued from Heaven, but small and dumb,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Not beckoning from the future’s promised land,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">But in the narrow present close at hand.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">They walk beside us with unsounding feet,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And like those two that trode the Eastern street<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And with their Saviour bartered thought for thought,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Our eyes are holden and we know them not.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12"><i>1878.</i><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_020b.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_017" id="page_017"></a>{17}</span></p>
<h2><a name="The_Last_Token" id="The_Last_Token"></a><img src="images/i_021a.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /><br /><br />
“The Last Token.”</h2>
<div class="blockquot"><p>A. D. 107.</p></div>
<div class="blockquot"><p>(She speaks.)</p></div>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">One minute more of life! Enough to snatch<br /></span>
<span class="i0">This flower to my bosom, and to catch<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The parting glance and signal overhead<br /></span>
<span class="i0">From one who sits and waits to see me dead.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">One minute more! Enough to let him see<br /></span>
<span class="i0">How straight the message fell from him to me,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And how, his talisman upon my breast,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">I’ll face the end as calmly as the rest.—<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Th’ impassive wall of faces seems to break<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And shew one face aquiver for my sake * * *<br /></span>
<span class="i0">How different death seems, with a hand that throws<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Across the pathway of my doom a rose,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">How brief and paltry life, compared to this<br /></span>
<span class="i0">O’ertoppling moment of supremest bliss! * * *<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Farewell! I feel the lions’ hungry breath,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">I meet your eyes * * * beloved, this is death.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12"><i>1878.</i><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_021b.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_018" id="page_018"></a>{18}</span></p>
<h2><a name="Raffaelle_to_the_Fornarina" id="Raffaelle_to_the_Fornarina"></a>Raffaelle to the Fornarina.</h2>
<div class="blockquot"><p>(Sitting to him for a Madonna.)</p></div>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Knot up the filmy strands of golden hair<br /></span>
<span class="i0">That veil your breast, yet leave its beauties bare;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">In decent ripples backward let it flow,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Smooth-parted sideways from your placid brow.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Unclasp the clinging necklace from your throat,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And let this misty veil about you float,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">As round the seraphs of my visions swim<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Faint, roseate clouds to make their radiance dim<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And bearable to dazzled human eyes,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Uplifted in a rapture of surprise.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Lay off your armlets now, and cover up<br /></span>
<span class="i0">With dark blue folds that shoulder’s dimpled slope;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Let naught appear to woo the grosser sense,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">But ruling calm, and sacred innocence;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Subdue the pointed twinkle of your eye<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Into a level, large serenity,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">(Now comes the test) and let your mouth awhile<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Be pressed into a faint, ascetic smile,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">A pure reflection of the inward thought,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">A chastened glow from fires celestial caught.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12"><i>1878.</i><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_019" id="page_019"></a>{19}</span></p>
<h2><a name="Chriemhild_of_Burgundy" id="Chriemhild_of_Burgundy"></a>Chriemhild of Burgundy.</h2>
<div class="blockquot"><p>A Fragment.</p></div>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">In all the land was not a maid<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Could match her beauty white and red;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">No decent veil she need to wear,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Deep-mantled in her royal hair,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Dun ripples, shot all through and through<br /></span>
<span class="i0">With fiery gold; her eyes were blue<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And clearer than a Summer wave<br /></span>
<span class="i0">That murmurs in some sunless cave,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And over them her brow shone white,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Like the first low star that pricks the night,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And under them her mouth did redden,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Like ripe red clover, honey-laden;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">But white as pear-bloom was her chin,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">An elvish dimple played therein;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Her breast stirred softly up and down<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Beneath the folding of her gown<br /></span>
<span class="i0">As if a bird were prisoned there<br /></span>
<span class="i0">That fluttered for the outer air,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And round and comely was each limb,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">As doth a royal maid beseem.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12"><i>1878.</i><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_020" id="page_020"></a>{20}</span></p>
<h2><a name="Some_Woman_to_Some_Man" id="Some_Woman_to_Some_Man"></a><img src="images/i_024a.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /><br /><br />
Some Woman to Some Man.</h2>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">We might have loved each other after all,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Have lived and learned together! Yet I doubt it;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">You asked, I think, too great a sacrifice,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Or else, perhaps, I rate myself too dear.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Whichever way the difference lies between us,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Would common cares have helped to lessen it,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">A common interest, and a common lot?<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Who knows indeed? We choose our path, and then<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Stand looking back and sighing at our choice,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And say: “Perhaps the other road had led<br /></span>
<span class="i0">To fruitful valleys dozing in the sun.”<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Perhaps—perhaps—but all things are perhaps,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And either way there lies a doubt, you know.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">We’ve but one life to live, and fifty ways<br /></span>
<span class="i0">To live it in, and little time to choose<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The one in fifty that will suit us best,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And so the end is, that we part, and say:<br /></span>
<span class="i0">“We might have loved each other after all!”<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12"><i>1878.</i><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_024b.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_021" id="page_021"></a>{21}</span></p>
<h2><a name="Lines_on_Chaucer" id="Lines_on_Chaucer"></a><img src="images/i_025a.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /><br /><br />
Lines on Chaucer.</h2>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">No human pomp suggests his name,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">No human pride builds up his fame,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">But croft and meadow every where<br /></span>
<span class="i0">His presence and his charm declare.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">He was an echo of the woods,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">A breath of vernal solitudes,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">An annalist of brooks and birds,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Interpreter of sylvan words;<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">He worshipt nature where he trod<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And still, through nature, worshipt God;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And spotless as the flower he praises<br /></span>
<span class="i0">His name still blossoms with the daisies.<br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_025b.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_022" id="page_022"></a>{22}</span></p>
<h2><a name="What_We_Shall_Say_Fifty_Years_Hence_OF_OUR_FANCY-DRESS_QUADRILLE"
id="What_We_Shall_Say_Fifty_Years_Hence_OF_OUR_FANCY-DRESS_QUADRILLE"></a>
What We Shall Say Fifty Years Hence,<br /> <small>OF OUR FANCY-DRESS QUADRILLE.</small></h2>
<div class="blockquot"><p>(Danced at Swanhurst, August 8th, 1878.)</p></div>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Do you remember, long ago,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Our Fancy-dress Quadrille?<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Though many a year is past since then<br /></span>
<span class="i2">It makes me joyous still,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">To think what fun we used to have<br /></span>
<span class="i2">When we were young and gay<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And danced upon the Swanhurst lawn,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">That happy Summer day.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">As Shepherd and as Shepherdess<br /></span>
<span class="i2">We trod the graceful round,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">In pinks and blues, with buckled shoes,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">And crooks with ribands bound;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And as with joyous step we danced<br /></span>
<span class="i2">We gaily sang in time<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The foolish words and merry tune<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Of some old Nursery rhyme.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">But often through the singing broke<br /></span>
<span class="i2">A burst of laughter gay,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_023" id="page_023"></a>{23}</span><br /></span>
<span class="i0">So young were we, so glad and free,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">That happy Summer day!<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And hand in hand would linger long,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">As through the dance we moved,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">For some of us were lovers then,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">And some of us were loved.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Ah, many a year is past since then,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">And fled the merry throng,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And yet I hear, at times quite clear,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">The echo of our song;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And though our days are Wintry now<br /></span>
<span class="i2">I well remember still<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The happy Summer day we danced<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Our Fancy-dress Quadrille!<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12"><i>1878.</i><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_027.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_024" id="page_024"></a>{24}</span></p>
<h2><a name="Nothing_More" id="Nothing_More"></a><img src="images/i_028a.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /><br /><br />
Nothing More.</h2>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">’Twas the old, old story told again,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">The story we all have heard;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">A glimpse of brightness, parting and pain—<br /></span>
<span class="i2">You know it word for word.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">A stolen picture—a faded rose—<br /></span>
<span class="i2">An evening hushed and bright;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">A whisper—perhaps a kiss—who knows?<br /></span>
<span class="i2">A handclasp, and “goodnight.”<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">The sum of what we call “first love,”<br /></span>
<span class="i2">That dreamflower rare and white,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">That puts its magic blossom forth<br /></span>
<span class="i2">And dies in a single night.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12"><i>1878.</i><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_028b.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_025" id="page_025"></a>{25}</span></p>
<h2><a name="June_and_December" id="June_and_December"></a>June and December.</h2>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">When our eyes grow dim and our hair turns grey<br /></span>
<span class="i2">And we sit by the fire together,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">’Twill seem strange to talk in a shivering way<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Of our Summertime’s rosy weather;<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">When our eyes were bright, and our tresses smooth,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">And the blood in our veins leapt red,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">In the golden dawn of our long lost youth,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">With the promise of life ahead.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Shall we talk with smiles or with sighs that day<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Of the years that are dead and gone,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Of the cares and the joys that have passed away<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Like dewdrops beneath the sun?<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Nay, perchance we’ll see but the sunny side<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Of the vision, in looking back,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And the trace of joys that are past may abide,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Where our sorrow have left no track;<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">And perhaps both the joys and the cares may seem<br /></span>
<span class="i2">In the light of that later day,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Like the phantom shapes of some beautiful dream<br /></span>
<span class="i2">That has long ago passed away.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_026" id="page_026"></a>{26}</span><br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">But whate’er beside we may lose or hold<br /></span>
<span class="i2">From the hoards of the golden past,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">May the friends we loved in the days of old<br /></span>
<span class="i2">To our hearts and thoughts cling fast,<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">And before the days come that are coming soon,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">And whose motto is “I remember,”<br /></span>
<span class="i0">God grant us one vision of love and June<br /></span>
<span class="i2">To brighten our life’s December.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12"><i>October 7th, 1878.</i><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_030.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_027" id="page_027"></a>{27}</span></p>
<h2><a name="October" id="October"></a><img src="images/i_031a.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /><br /><br />
October.</h2>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">A cold grey sea, a cold grey sky<br /></span>
<span class="i2">And leafless swaying boughs,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">A wind that wanders sadly by,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">And moans about the house.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">And in my lonely heart a cry<br /></span>
<span class="i2">For days that went before;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">For joys that fly, and hopes that die,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">And the past that comes no more.<br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_031b.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_028" id="page_028"></a>{28}</span></p>
<h2><a name="A_Woman_I_Know" id="A_Woman_I_Know"></a><img src="images/i_032.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /><br /><br />
A Woman I Know.</h2>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">For a look from her eyes, for a smile of her mouth<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Any man might well give the best years of his youth;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">For the touch of her hand, for the warmth of her kiss<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Might well barter his chances of infinite bliss;<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">For her step is like sunlight that plays on the sea<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And her bosom is snowy as snowy can be,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And her hair is a mantle inwoven with gold<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Such as Queens might have worn in the legends of old;<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">And her chin oh so white, and her cheek oh so red,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">They might well drive a man who should look at them mad;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">But beneath the bright breast where her heart ought to be,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">What is there? Why a trap to catch fools, sir, like me!<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12"><i>October, 1878.</i><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_032.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_029" id="page_029"></a>{29}</span></p>
<h2><a name="Daisies" id="Daisies"></a><img src="images/i_033.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /><br /><br />
Daisies.</h2>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Daisies, does he love me?<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Daisies, tell me true.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">“Loves me * * * does not love me” * * *<br /></span>
<span class="i2">That will never do!<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Why, you know, you daisies,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Whatever you may say,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">He stole that knot of riband<br /></span>
<span class="i2">I wore the other day.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Daisies, one more trial;<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Let your petals fall.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">“Loves me * * * does not love me * * *<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Loves me,” after all!<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Thank you, darling daisies,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">And if it ends that way<br /></span>
<span class="i0">I’ll wear you in a garland<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Upon my wedding day.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12"><i>1878.</i><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_033.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_030" id="page_030"></a>{30}</span></p>
<h2><a name="Impromptu" id="Impromptu"></a><img src="images/i_034a.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /><br /><br />
Impromptu.</h2>
<div class="blockquot"><p>(On being asked for some verses.)</p></div>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">I love the silver dawn of night<br /></span>
<span class="i2">That melts the dark away;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The ecstacy of pallid light<br /></span>
<span class="i2">That bathes the ended day;<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">When leaf by leaf the slumbrous trees<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Begin to talk anew;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And that sweet almoner, the breeze,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Fills every cup with dew;<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">When on the fevered brow of toil<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Eve lays a soothing palm,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And whispers softly to the soul:<br /></span>
<span class="i2">“This hour was made for calm.”<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12"><i>1876.</i><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_034b.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_031" id="page_031"></a>{31}</span></p>
<h2><a name="Notre_Dame_des_Fleurs" id="Notre_Dame_des_Fleurs"></a>Notre Dame des Fleurs.</h2>
<div class="blockquot"><p>To F. S. W.</p></div>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Rosy, and fair, and fragrant,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Your vassals, the flowers, come,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Bearing a welcome to us<br /></span>
<span class="i2">From the heart of your sunlit home;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Delicate garlands, wreathing<br /></span>
<span class="i2">With brightness these dreary hours;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Red lips and white lips, breathing<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Of you, our Lady of Flowers!<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Violets, blue as your eyes are<br /></span>
<span class="i2">And roses, as soft as your cheek,—<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Daphne, sweet as your words are,—<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Primroses pallid and meek;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Feathery, waving fern-plumes,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">And blossoms from Summer bowers,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Each one bearing a message<br /></span>
<span class="i2">From you, our Lady of Flowers!<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Giver of brightness and beauty,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">And Queen of this fragrant throng,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">How shall we thank you or praise you<br /></span>
<span class="i2">But feebly in this poor song?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_032" id="page_032"></a>{32}</span><br /></span>
<span class="i0">We, whom you crown with blossoms,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Whom richly your kindness dowers,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">We must be silent and love you,—<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Love you, our Lady of Flowers!<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i12"><i>November 25, 1878.</i><br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_036.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_033" id="page_033"></a>{33}</span></p>
<h2><a name="Translations_from_the_German" id="Translations_from_the_German"></a><img src="images/i_037a.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /><br /><br />
Translations from the German.<br /><br />
<small>THREE SONGS FROM THE GERMAN OF EMANUEL GEIBEL.</small></h2>
<h3>I.</h3>
<div class="blockquot"><p>(“Mein Pferd geht langsam durch die nacht.”)</p></div>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">My steed goes slowly through the night;<br /></span>
<span class="i2">The moon is half in shadow,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">With clouds that steal across her light<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Like lambs across a meadow.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">A sudden stillness fills my heart,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">With grief so lately movèd,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">For in thy thoughts I have a part,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Tonight, my best belovèd.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">In every whisper of the wind<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Thy greeting I discover;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">O may’st thou in the breezes find<br /></span>
<span class="i2">The kisses of thy lover.<br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_037b.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_034" id="page_034"></a>{34}</span></p>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_038a.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<h3>II.</h3>
<div class="blockquot"><p>(“Schöne Lilie.”)</p></div>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Spotless lily in the garden,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Fair and high on slender stem,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">In the morning breeze thou wavest<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Like a dainty silver flame.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">How thy chalice opens upward<br /></span>
<span class="i2">To admit the sunlight’s gleam!<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Scarce unto the earth belonging,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Part of Heaven dost thou seem.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Ah, thou bearest greetings to me<br /></span>
<span class="i2">From a being pure as thou,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Whom I called my spirit’s spirit,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Once with many a loving vow;<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">She who taught me to discover<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Love that lurks in sorrow’s smart;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Now, if I but think upon her<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Sudden stillness fills my heart.<br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_038b.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_035" id="page_035"></a>{35}</span></p>
<h3>III.</h3>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">There stands the ancient gabled house;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The rooms therein how well I know!<br /></span>
<span class="i0">They’re still as once they were, when first<br /></span>
<span class="i4">I loved there, long ago.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">But, like the moon, times change, and hearts,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And strangers now the dwelling claim;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Another passion fills my breast;<br /></span>
<span class="i4">Yet is the house the same.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Today I went there to the feast;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Some memory made my bosom stir,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">I heeded not the song and jest,<br /></span>
<span class="i4">I only thought of <i>her</i>,—<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Of all that we had meant to be,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Of all my vanisht youthful years,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And of the love that filled her eyes,—<br /></span>
<span class="i4">Till mine o’erflowed with tears.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">And when I roused me from the thought,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Alas, how changed did all things seem!<br /></span>
<span class="i0">As though that dream had been my life,<br /></span>
<span class="i4">And all my life a dream.<br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_036" id="page_036"></a>{36}</span></p>
<h2><a name="Longing" id="Longing"></a>Longing.<br /><br />
<small>FROM THE GERMAN OF SCHILLER.</small></h2>
<div class="blockquot"><p>(“Ach, aus dieses Thales Gründen.”)</p></div>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">From the shadows of the valley<br /></span>
<span class="i2">With the chilly mist opprest,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Might I only find the outlet<br /></span>
<span class="i2">I should count myself as blest.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">There uprise the sunny mountains<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Green and young and fair to see,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Had I wings to lift me upward,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">To the mountains I would flee.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Melodies are sweetly chiming,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">I can catch the heavenly notes,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And a balmy flower fragrance<br /></span>
<span class="i2">On the light breeze downward floats.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Golden fruits are shining, glowing,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Through the leafage, darkly green,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And the flowers that there are blowing<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Winter’s snows have never seen.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Ah, how blissful must the life be<br /></span>
<span class="i2">In that sunshine without night;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_037" id="page_037"></a>{37}</span><br /></span>
<span class="i0">Ah, how soft and how refreshing<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Is the air that crowns that height!<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Yet the stormy river stays me<br /></span>
<span class="i2">That between us roars of death;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And its ghastly waves are lifted<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Till my spirit shuddereth.<br /></span>
</div><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">There a bark all lonely tosses<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Without steersman, on the tide;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Leap into it, bold, untrembling,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">Sure some fate its sails will guide!<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Thou must trust, and thou must venture,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">For the gods will lend no hand;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Nothing but a wonder lifts thee<br /></span>
<span class="i2">To thy golden Wonderland.<br /></span>
</div></div>
</div>
<p class="c"><img src="images/i_041.jpg" alt="[Decorative image unavailable.]" /></p>
<hr class="full" />
<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 55807 ***</div>
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