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If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Blue and Purple - -Author: Francis Neilson - -Release Date: July 15, 2021 [eBook #65842] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Charlene Taylor, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The Internet - Archive/American Libraries.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLUE AND PURPLE *** - - - - - BLUE AND PURPLE - - - - - BLUE AND PURPLE - - FRANCIS NEILSON - - - [Illustration: colophon] - - - NEW YORK: B. W. HUEBSCH - MCMXX - - - COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY - B. W. HUEBSCH - - - - -SONGS TO A WIFE - -_My love is beautiful and sweet; she is like a pale -pink rose full of the glory of dew and sun. Sharon’s -garden knows not a bloom so fair as she. Persia holds -not a fragrance so heavenly in its perfumed bowers. -Oh, my wondrous love, pour thy scented charm into -the chalice of my longing heart; fill with thy fresh -splendour the air I breathe; and give me youth to -spend on thee, my well-beloved. I am the gardener, -born to tend one flower. My flower is the radiance of -a dawn in June. Like a veil of glowing pearls my love -spreads her light; she is my morning, my joy of perfect -hours. I will sing to her the song fresh roses raise -from their delicious petals when night departs and -they rejoice, sun-kissed, when all the east is rich in -gold. Lovely is my bloom. Her soul is the first blossom -given by Him who made the loveliness of Spring._ - - - - -BLUE AND PURPLE - - - - -IN BLUE AND PURPLE CLAD - - -A pearl set in the hollow of a stone, - Wrought deftly by an artist of great skill; - A sapphire ’twas that bore the pearl so still -Within its bosom; taking from its tone - -Those fires of deep delight to Asia known. - Blent in an amethyst, the priceless twain - Enthronèd were, o’er glowing worlds to reign, -In gladness richer than the morn has shown. - -She, like a regal lily of the field, -On which the sunset colours softly lay, -Forgot that life was sometime dark and sad; -She smiled, and bade all sorrow’s wounds be healed; -Then she was lovelier than heav’n’s best day-- -Ethereal, in blue and purple clad. - - - - -FAR HORIZONS - - -We stand upon the barren shore, - And look far out to sea, -The crooning waves their burden pour - On you and me. - -Our longing eyes, full of our mind, - On far horizons lie-- -There, where our joy we hope to find - Before we die. - -How fair the tempting journey seems-- - Smooth lake of mystery-- -How frail the craft, our forethought deems, - For such a sea! - -For you and me, my lovely one, - And all our mighty hopes; -One step, dear love, and we have done, - And--cut the ropes? - -Lashed to the past we stand, and fear - To leave our ties and pain; -Though (speaks the soul, if we would hear) - Our loss is gain. - -Fear blurs the vision of our dream, - Fear fills our hearts with dread, -Soon we shall find upon life’s stream - Our souls are dead. - -We stand upon the shore and mourn; - We grieve, despairingly, -To leave the fetters we have borne-- - So patiently. - -Or, do we grieve that we are weak, - Lack courage to be free, -And spurn the liberty we seek - For slavery? - -Doubts lie--like pebbles on this strand-- - In our sad souls, my mate. -Before us lies the promised land, - Behind us--fate. - -Then, let us here together bide, - With faces toward the sea, -And hope that some fair morning’s tide - Take you and me. - - - - -HEBE’S EYES - - -The light of Hebe’s eyes -Gives colour to the skies, -It makes the azure dome - A radiant place, -Where love might find a home, - Sweet as her face. - -Ethereal are the hues -Where birds a-wing would lose -Themselves in heavenly bliss; - As I would do-- -If I might soar to kiss - Her eyes so blue! - - - - -SWEET FACE, I SEE THEE SHINE - - -Sweet face, I see thee shine -Out of the bosom of the east at morn; -Thy tenderness, divine, -Lies mirrored in the pearly dew at dawn. - -The flower that smiles at me, -Holds in its cup the picture of your face; -In rivulets I see -The flowing charm of your abiding grace. - -The sapling tells me how -Your body’s symmetry grows strong and straight; -The winds which whisper now, -Tell me your love and trust will not abate. - -The steadfast stars above -Reflect the fervour of your constant mind, -Your deep unwav’ring love-- -The rarest jewel eager man can find! - -In nature’s soul thou art-- -I see thee, hear thee, feel thee, ever near; -Dear love, thou art the heart -Of those eternal joys our souls revere. - - - - -TWO FLOWERS - - - I saw a bloom, - So beautiful, -My sad heart lost its gloom, - And cares that dull -The senses, soon passed far away-- -The bloom brought joy into the day. - - I saw her face - When she bent down -And kissed the bloom. Then grace - Was Hebe’s crown -Of loveliness, and there! upon -Her brow the light of heaven shone! - - - - -THE MUSIC OF MY HEART - - -The soft night, like a silent child -Before some wondrous thing, -Withholds its breath, as if beguiled -By songs the fairies sing. - -It seems to stand and listen, still -As statue in a grove-- -Perhaps it hears a fairy trill -A strain Titania wove. - -Ah, no, the night hears not her song, -For it would then be glad; -And I have listened here so long, -I know the night is sad. - -Now if it be a song that keep -The hour when night should part, -Then night must hear from my soul’s deep, -The music of my heart. - - - - -THE TRYST - - -My love is coming through green fields to me-- - Why does she tarry so? -She knows I wait on cliffs above the sea, - And dare not to her go; -For I am prisoned to the spot where love -Has chained my feet, and must not call or move. - -My love is gath’ring harebells, where the mead - Is starred with flowers to kiss -Her ling’ring feet; there sedges intercede, - And whisper runes of bliss-- -Beseeching her to stay and heed me not-- -For she can make a heaven of any spot! - -My love is list’ning to the skylark’s song, - Delight is in her ears. -She cannot know her lover yearns so long, - And drinks his salty tears -To quench his thirst for all her winsome grace-- -Her absence makes a desert of the place. - -My love is drinking in the air which blows - The perfumes of the sea, -The journeying breeze wafts past me--well she knows-- - Though me she cannot see! - -Her lovely eyes, the yearning west would woo, -Look not on me while blooms in green fields sue. - -She knows ’tis deathless love that holds me fast, - Chained to this rock so grim; -That I shall wait for her, until the last - Sun sets o’er ocean’s rim. -That flowers shall die and green fields fade and sear, -Ere I forsake the tryst to greet her here. - - - - -NATURE’S LOVELINESS - - -Yes, everywhere I go -I see the constant flow - Of nature’s loveliness-- -But, oh, if I could see -These scenes, my love, with thee, - How bright would be their dress! - -I can no more rejoice -Without your gracious voice - Exulting in my ear, -And nature, too, requires -Your soulful, ardent fires, - To beautify the year. - -The tender blooms turn pale -When I, alone, through vale - And gully, searching pass; -They seem to say to me, -“Where is your mate? for we - Bloom only for your lass.” - -My worship in the glen -Goes up for naught, dear, when - I stand alone in prayer; -The sea, the dunes, the trees, -Chide me, and every breeze - Sings lamentation there. - -No, nothing in this world -Where gales and snows have whirled - A joyous tempest down-- -Which spread a carpet fine -For thee to tread, can shine - As your belovèd crown. - -They do not envy you, -They love the sweet, the true-- - They know you are sincere -As morning’s spark of light -In dew orbs shining bright, - When heaven is blue and clear. - -They want your merry laugh, -Like rain for them to quaff; - They want to kiss your feet; -They want to see your eyes-- -Full glory of blue skies-- - Your smile they yearn to greet. - -Come to the woods, my own, -With every blessing known - To man, which you can bring; -Here is your royal goal, -Come, with your joyous soul, - And make all nature sing! - - - - -YOU - - -What is this mystery? -This subtle wonder--you? -Which fills my soul with ecstasy, -My eyes with dew? -What are you, influence, so mild? -As subtle as the air which sways -The stalwart pine. What child -Of nature are you? -Soul obeys your slightest motion. -Mind is set in deep commotion-- -By your presence-- -By your absence-- -Being thrills beneath your glance! -A smile will all my thought enhance. -Touch my lips, and every bliss -Seeks heaven’s glory in a kiss! -You! sweet influence, what art -God used in fashioning you apart -From His renownèd mould, -In the marvellous days of old? -Why, all the elements combined -In making you -The dearest mystery refined, -The ages through! -Yet, what are you? with power -So great to bind my will, -Fast in strong chains each hour; -And every action fill -With echoes of one name, -Resounding in love’s hall of fame? -You! Unlike your kind-- -An essence of God’s mind. -An attribute of His deep joy, -When in his toil of love -He fashioned you without alloy, -The masterpiece to prove, -With every splendid gift--replete. -You--complete! -My earth, sky, sea, and air; -My fruit, flower, jewel rare; -My every need of day and night-- -Sun, moon, stars, space; my soul’s delight! -Your name whose syllables are wings -Which waft me high, -Above the fragrant air which brings -Faint eastern aromatics to the sky. -Ever a mystery of art to be, -A subtle influence subjecting me. -Like, fair Hamadryad, created anew-- -Ineffable, mystical, wonderful--you! - - - - -THE LAST LIGHT - - -The foothills of Nebraska shine - In a disc of sunset gold; -The cornstalks glisten like pale wine-- - But the wind is bitter cold. - -Around my love a radiance lies, - ’Tis the glow of her soul’s sun; -’Twill light a vision in my eyes-- - When the long day’s work is done. - - - - -WHEN YOU WERE BORN - - -Love stirred the spheres, -The groves rang mirth-- -There were no tears-- -At my love’s birth! - -A dancing star -In revel flashed; -Then leaped afar-- -And earthward dashed. - -In bliss it showered -A million joys-- -Sweet wishes flowered -In girls and boys. - -Then back it went, -With soaring dance, -And darkness rent -In merry prance. - -The dawn’s grey spires -Cleft night’s blue deep, -Then golden fires -Consumed dawn’s keep. - -A lark then flew -With joy on high-- -With pearly dew-- -Up to the sky. - -And gave its kiss -To its dear mate, -In flutt’ring bliss, -At heaven’s gate. - -So rosy morn -Subdued the night, -When you were born, -My joy’s delight! - - - - -FORTUNE, YOU HAVE NAUGHT I NEED - - -Fortune, you have naught I need; -Fame cannot appease me; -Flowery beds grow but a weed; -Laughter cannot please me. -Lovely roses win no smile, -From my drooping spirit; -Larks a song may sing the while, -I will never hear it. -Music rich, on which I throve, -Leaves me worn and weary; -Softest tunes of vernal grove -Seem so trite and dreary. -I am hard to please, I know, -Nothing wins my pleasure; -Let the golden rivers flow, -I disdain their treasure. -Heaven itself may shine in vain, -It will cheer me never, -Let it glow, or blow, or rain, -Crack, and timbers sever. -Let me seek the fallow way, -Hating mirth and sorrow, -Wanting not this dreary day, -Give me bright tomorrow! -Day is dark as longest night, -Hours are without number; -Wakeful night in its slow flight, -Rids me of my slumber. -Weary, weary world, ah! me, -What is that I cry for? -Only love to come to me-- -That is what I sigh for! -Only Hebe, lovely one, -She of loves the rarest-- -Give me my beloved sun, -Light to me the fairest! - - - - -LET US MAKE A GARDEN - - -Come, let us make a garden, mate of mine, -A patch of rich brown earth the Spring will green; -I, with a spade and fork; you, with a line -And plan, will set it out for heaven’s bright sheen - -To cover, when the warm days come again. -Come, now the snows are melting, and the soil -Is drinking down the draughts of winter’s pain; -Let us dig in our hopes with jocund toil! - -The smell of fresh-turned loam will give us strength, -The work will brace our souls for greater tasks; -Our plan will bring us days of happy length, -And take from us the tribute summer asks. - -Come, now the stubborn frost is yielding fast, -And bathe our bodies in the softer airs, -Which blow from kinder climes now winter’s past, -And sleet and hail are gone to their white lairs. - -With hopes of lovely blooms to gather soon, -Come, make a garden, mate of mine, with me, -So we may go rejoicing in warm June, -And all the glories of God’s bounty see. - -Come, mate of mine, and make a garden bright -In my sad heart, for snows are melting there, -Bring to it all your joys of warmth and light, -And bid it bloom, and never more be bare. - - - - -SANCTUARY - - -Where the peace of even lies, -And the low’ring purples rest, -Under amethystine skies, -Is the mystery of the West. - -In the colour-blending shroud -Of the glories of the heat, -Where the myriad tones of cloud -Glow and fade in their retreat, - -There the soul of peace lies still, -In the secret of the eve, -In the shadows of the hill, -Where the colours spin and weave - -All the textures for the skies, -All the yearnings of the heart, -All the gleams in lovely eyes-- -In the wonder-colour part - -Lies the soul of peace. And thou! -Dearest mystery of my life, -With thy colours me endow, -In the murk and gloom of strife. - -Radiant! Clothe me in thy soul-- -Sanctuary of my rest. -Let thy mingling colours roll, -Deep, around me in thy West. - - - - -STARS - - -Ten thousand lights were gleaming there, - A million stars were bright-- -But, oh, my darling’s face was fair - On that entrancing night. - -The world looked up and saw the skies, - In lovely colour shine-- -I looked into my darling’s eyes, - And all the world was mine. - - - - -REJUVENATION - - -Are you the wondrous joy of Spring, -Sent coursing through the woods, -With chorals for the birds to sing, -And colors for the buds? - -Or are you some supreme delight, -Which morn set free with mirth, -To carry gladness in your flight -All o’er the meads of earth? - -What are you, Hebe, nymph or maid? -You start Spring in my heart -With blooms that time can never fade-- -Rejuvenating art. - -What witchery, like Spring, is this -You hold o’er me, sweet one? -You set me glowing with a kiss -With warmth of summer sun. - -As winter thaws when spring comes in -With claims to warmth and growth, -So you from cold my soul doth win-- -Pour in it best of both. - -I rise from dreary hours and smile -At sorrow when you call, -And thrill with youthful yearnings while -Your blisses on me fall. - -’Tis magic! ’Tis the art of joy, -Transforming way of Spring; -Her methods, Hebe, you employ -To make my young heart sing. - - - - -A SONG - - -I love her for her tenderness, - Her sweet abiding grace, -Her gentle spirit’s loveliness, - Her earnest, winsome face! - -I love her for her happy ways, - Her body’s wondrous bloom, -Her smiles which light the heavy days, - And straight dispel my gloom! - -I love her for her honest speech-- - Her constant soul’s delight-- -Her honeyed lips the gods would teach - To kiss their loves aright! - -I love her for she kept for me, - Those lips where perfect bliss -Awaits in reddening ecstasy - Her lover’s eager kiss! - - - - -HEBE - - -Hebe is a mystery, -Moving in a woman’s guise, -Through a silent sacristy-- -Holy as her lovely eyes. - -Hebe is a magnet strong, -Drawing strength from strength each day, -She is like a glorious song, -Growing sweeter in its sway; - -Melting mind and heart at first, -Thrilling all the senses whole, -’Til in its melodic burst, -Leaps triumphant o’er the soul. - -Hebe is enchanting when -All the world seems most awry; -She smiles brightly o’er me, then -Earth is gone and heaven is nigh. - -Hebe is both pro and con-- -She is understanding’s own. -Was there ever paragon -Such as she to scholars known? - -She is younger than her youth, -She is older than her race, -She is clearer than the truth, -Tender as her winsome face. - -Nature’s contradiction she, -Turning science upside down; -She is Love’s own mystery, -From her heel up to her crown. - -Hebe is all things of joy: -She is joy--joy was forgot -’Til she came, here to employ -Lover’s arts the Greeks knew not. - -She is supple, strong, and sweet; -She is full of gentle mirth-- -Happy are her splendid feet, -They are worthy of the earth. - -She is sportive as a child, -She is wise as she is kind, -With a temper firm yet mild, -She controls her earnest mind. - -Tears may fall as drenching rain, -She will make each tear a pearl, -And the heart when full of pain, -She can set in joyful whirl. - -Who records this maid of bliss? -I, who love her every act. -Greater myst’ry yet is this: -Hebe is a splendid fact. - - - - -SPRING - - -Let us go -While Spring’s delicious breezes blow, -And see the dunes and sedges grow -Green, white, and red-- -Now Winter’s sped-- -And all the moorland is aglow. - -Let us feel -The magic breath of springtime steal -On us, and everywhere reveal -The joyous strife -Of bursting life, -And hear the bells of heaven peal. - -Let us see -The busy songsters’ ecstasy, -And hear them pipe their songs of glee-- -For all the day -They seem to say, -The soul is happy that is free! - -Love, divine, -Art thou not Spring, and give me wine -To quaff? For in this heart of mine -A new life grows, -And yields a rose -For thee--the fragrance of it thine! - -Hebe, dear, -The message of this Spring day hear; -See, love, the glory of the year: -The Spring is free, -So Summer be -The season in which joy is clear! - - - - -THE FAY - - -In blue, cerise, and grey, -A dainty, bonnie thing-- -No mortal--just a fay, -From elfin glades astray, -With joys the swallows bring -When they come back with spring. - -She came with lovely mien-- -The charms of fairy’s art-- -No winsomer was seen, -Not Titania, her queen. -She flew into my heart -To rest, and ne’er depart. - -My heart is beating high-- -The fay is singing there. -Blest tenant, tell me why, -Of mortals, why am I -The happy one to dare -Make captive, fay so rare? - -She answered in a song,-- -So soft and sweet the tune-- -“Pray, why? Have I done wrong -To hide in heart so strong? -Where I may place the boon -Of all the joys of June?” - -Oh, winsome, witching sprite, -Who like a mortal came, -In robe of tender light, -To make my hours so bright; -Who brought me Love’s dear fame, -To warm me at its flame. - - - - -A SONG - - -My love is morning’s fragrance blown -From blossoms fair in golden June; -Her footstep’s rhythm is in tune -With melodies by Springtime known. -Her misty locks are like the May, -On pearly hedges lightly thrown; -A sweeter face was never shown -To man that he might face the day! -O beauty, tender, like the moon -Of summer nights, which gently lay -On lovers when their hearts were gay, -And deep desire was at its noon. - - - - -THE GARDENER - - -I see her in the blooming field, - Where winds sport in the grass, -And petals of the Summer yield - Sweet perfumes to my lass. - -I see her gather flowers so bright, - They almost match her face, -Whose rapture is my soul’s delight-- - There I shall find God’s grace. - -Ah, grace of mercy to me flows - When I look in her eyes; -Her soul of love and beauty glows, - And my life sanctifies. - -She is so simple in her joys, - So childlike in her ways; -When she the golden hour employs, - In off’ring nature praise. - -She lifts the roots to plant again, - In some sequestered spot, -Where they may know a fairer reign, - And beautify her plot-- - -There, thrive from culture of her hand, - Aim to engage her smile, -Delight in blooming o’er the land - Where she will tread the while. - -So God His wonders has revealed - Through her, what growth can be, -And in the process I am healed - Of blindness, and can see - -That all the fields and woods are full, - Of glories rich and rare-- -When she a little flower will pull, - And set it in her hair. - - - - -REVELATION - - -I see no beauty shining in the east -At dawn, nor when the glowing sun has risen, -And shot a million rays into night’s prison-- -No lovely scene on which my eyes would feast. -And in the west at eve I see no light -That enters my whole being like a flash -Of bursting joy--swift sky rent ere the crash -Of kissing clouds acclaim their passion’s might. - -My eyes have seen the marvel of the world, -All joys transfigured into mighty bliss-- -The great creative moment, sight divine, -When earth, and sky, and sea, were torn and hurled -Apart, to yield her soul’s ecstatic kiss, -Which shed all beauty ’neath one glance of mine. - - - - -THE KEEPER OF THE KISSES - - -The keeper of the kisses sleeps-- - No sigh of mine can wake her; -In slumber all my joy she keeps-- - My eyes will not forsake her! - -All night I wait and watch her rest, - And yearn for those deep blisses, -Which are withheld from those unblest, - By her who keeps the kisses. - -Oh, keeper of the kisses, rise - And now, at morn, uprender -The key which locks your lips and eyes, - And give me kisses tender. - -The birds are waiting, and the flowers-- - All spring your kisses needing; -The burning stars, the fainting hours, - The earth for joy is pleading. - -See, her soft couch is moss and blooms, - All sweet with perfumes blowing; -And lover like myself assumes, - The flowers for her are growing. - -Now if she wake with rosy dawn, - When all the east be singing, -Will every nightingale be drawn - To her with bluebells ringing? - -She sleeps, and knows not how we yearn, - For bliss she only grants us; -For her the sun and sky doth burn! - The lark is up, and chants thus: - -“Oh, keeper of the kisses, wake! - Unlock your lips by smiling, -And let adoring mortals take - The joys of your beguiling. - -“For what is love without your lips? - A life that is not merry. -The bee that every honey sips, - Prefers the dimpled cherry.” - - - - -MUSIC IN HADES - - -The blackbird’s note on Spring’s first morn, - Is not so sweet as my love’s voice, -Her music, like a song re-born, - For great Eurydice’s own choice-- - -Nay, Orpheus gave not to the shades, - To win his love, such minstrelsy, -As my dear love, whose song pervades - The hell from which she set me free. - - - - -THE DREAM - - -Beauty waking from a vivid dream, -All warm, and soft, and tender, -Her eyes with happiness agleam-- -Outstretched her arms, so slender. -Her face a picture full of wonder-- -Her lips of gushing love asunder. -My lovely mistress, then ensouled, -Wrapped in the gown of rosy sleep, -Thrust back the curtained haze, and rolled -Aside the mists of slumber deep. - -Sweetly she murmured to her lover: “Boy, -I dreamed a dream all joy! -There, in a thicket, caught by thorns, -A bird, which morning’s glow adorns, -(It was not hurt, but tangled there, -And struggled to be free) -A yellow bright canary! -It whistled sweet to me-- -I thought it was a fairy. -In golden robes so rare, -Until I stretched my hand, -And saw it spread its wings. -Then, not in fairyland, -I thought an elf (though each one sings) -Could thrill so blithe a song, -Or fly away so fast. -I gave it liberty, -To live a life of joys both bright and long, -In one warm summer of days unsurpassed. -This dream of freedom came to me.” - -Joy tinted every feature of her face, -Warm blushes spread beneath the lace -Of her fine robe, and pure delight -Sang in the phrases of her speech; -She lay, and told the story bright -In throbbing tones of happiness, -So wonderful was she, I would beseech -Such exquisite dear tenderness-- -Soft as the morning sun’s serenest beams-- -Would come from all her dreams, -And make my love so rosy, -So warm, so soft and cosy; -So clinging in her kisses, -Resplendent in those blisses -Of trust, and hope, and courage fine, -Which shone in her like gleams of deep red wine! -My soul was never thrilled, -As it was then by her; -My eyes with tears were filled, -For joys so rare! -Love surged like a sun-shaft up, -To drink deep bliss from heaven’s cup! -’Twas like the poet’s joy I feel, -As if her lovely soul were bare, -And mine with it was there -To touch and heal -Itself, and all those blessings gain -Which God sends down on her like sweet, refreshing rain. - -Blest be her gracious head, -Smooth be her smiling brow! -May Spring and Summer wed -For Hebe now, -And shower-- -Aye! every hour-- -The fairest blossoms of the trees -On every fragrant gentle breeze, -To make soft paths for her dear feet, -When she would in her sweet dreams greet -Her fond, adoring mate, -At dreamland’s gate. - - - - -THE BOON - - -What is the dearest wish my soul can make? - What great desire can all this world bestow? - What is the very height of boon I know? -What gift immeasurable I can take? -Is there some precious thing for its own sake - My mind doth crave to make it strong and glow? - Is there some priceless treasure I might show, -And make men from their rosy dreams awake? - -No treasure this deep world can give I need. - My dearest wish no mighty king can give; - My great desire--no bauble that will cloy! -I seek no gains on which ambitions feed! - Far more I seek; always to move and live - And have my being in my Hebe’s joy. - - - - -JACK O’LANTERN - - -Firefly! wait, but a moment, in your flight; -Stay, gleaming thing, and tell me of that night, -When you were taken by a fairy hand, -And cast into the grate to light the brand, -In that fair room of bliss and rosy dream. -For love of God! I pray you, moving beam -Of light, stay, now my memory is woke-- -You will not leave me now you do invoke -My thought to that dear night, long gone, when she, -With elfin joy, went out and captured thee. - -You circle round my head, a band of flame-- -A light that fades as quickly as it came. -O fickle fly, deny me not, come burn -For me, and let me from this torture turn; -In recollection’s refuge seek relief -From loneliness, the torn soul’s awful grief. -Come, bright or dark, do you but circle near, -Where you alone in night my words may hear. - -What of my love? My wondrous love, who caught -You winging that sweet night, as swift as thought, -And threw you on the logs to start the fire, -Whose gleams revealed to me my heart’s desire? -Matchless! all in her loveliness and grace-- -Soft as her humour, happy as her face. - -Where is she now? Oh, where is my lost love, -My fairy mistress, gentle as a dove? -Does she in cockle leaves hide long night through, -Fearful of the clouds, shrinking from the dew? -I never see her now! The fire no more -In flick’ring rays lights up my sad heart’s core. -There is no warmth in life now she is gone. -The sun disdains the man it shines upon. -A wretched thing, bereft of all his joy, -Goes wand’ring through the night, where fays employ -The hours in dirges drear, and weirdly mourn -For her, their queen, long lost to fairy bourn. - -Come, Jack O’Lantern, lead me to my mate-- -She who alone can my distress abate, -She who will wipe all storms of grief away, -She whose dear radiance makes my perfect day! -Alas! you heed me not, your lamp is out, -You hide away in darkness, black as doubt, -You light, to mock the faithful, false as hell, -You, in and out, you phosphorescent sell-- -I will have naught to do with you. Go, shine, -And make a fool of souls less tough than mine. - -A weary round is day, and night is torn -By all the bitter conflicts day has worn; -The hours are full of shattered hopes, and pass -With ling’ring tortures, writhing in the mass -Of gloomy moods. I am no man of day, -Nor am I one the limpid night’s soft ray -Will fall upon to bless. No hour will claim -Me for time’s old companion. Yes, I shame -The ordinance of day, bright hours or dark, -One out of joint with all. The happy lark -Sings now no more for me. The flow’ring dell -No longer blooms as she with cup and bell -Once did. For there is gone from out my life, -My matchless queen, my joy, my fairy wife. - -You gleam no more, and yet on wing you roam, -A firefly desolate, bereft of home -And hearth, where logs might burn and shine at night, -Upon the sweetest elf that did delight, -Beyond excelling, mortal soul and mind. -May you, poor, searching, Jack O’Lantern, find -The mistress of your fairy world in state. -Then come, and take me to the shining grate, -And I will bow allegiance, and renew -Love, fealty, and homage, there with you. - - - - -OH, TRANQUIL NIGHT - - -Oh, tranquil night, what spirit keeps thee still? -Do whispering breezes taunt thy loneliness? -Or art thou, too, numb, suffering keen distress, -For want of one warm kiss to break the chill -Of patience, which pervades your watch sublime? -The stars are cold, mute company for thee, -And cheerless is the ever-moaning sea-- -Long is the keep; a dreary watchman, Time. - - Some soul is with you breathing out a balm, - A solace I know not tonight. What heed - Is taken of our tears which drench the sod? - Still there must be with thee a spirit calm, - Else would endurance break for aching need-- - Such loneliness could not be braved by God! - - - - -DESPAIR - - -Too tough! The spirit will survive, -It keeps this mortal coil alive; -Love too, that yearns to meet the day -When you will come and with me stay. - -There is no death that love can fear-- -Love never yet upon a bier -Lay in the sleep of death, for life -Is stronger far than any strife. - -Love is the light which burns and shines -When woe of spirit undermines -The thought, and our lives go awry, -And days are long in passing by. - -Love is the spirit’s soul, and glows -Through all the pain a mortal knows, -And death cannot its might assail, -Nor bitterness its courage quail. - -Dear love, my flesh cries out to thee, -My spirit’s eyes her face would see, -My mind is mad for need of her, -My love is naked to the air. - - - - -TO A PHOTOGRAPH - - -How sceptical you look tonight: - There is a sneer about your lips-- - A moth is near them--see! it sips, -And now rejoicing takes to flight. -Oh moth, I envy you that kiss; - My lips are arid strangers now. - Oh, I would take to flight, I vow, -If I could revel in such bliss. -Why do you look at me and frown? - What have I done but love you well? - Does she love me? Come, picture, tell-- -The moth returns, and flutters down -Upon that blessed wavy hair. - Oh, how I love each scented strand! - How oft my lips would make a band -To capture in a kiss, ensnare -A lock of that dear crown of yours! - Ah, well, be vexed with me, severe. - Those eyes have never shed a tear; -They follow me on restless tours, -While I the night pace to and fro, - Hour after hour, to pass away - The dreary time before the day. -Your eyes upon these journeys go, -Watching, sternly. Picture, tell me-- - What sphinx are you? Speak once and show - Some sign of pleasure. Let me know -If you would from my company -Be gone, and choose another one - To be with you each day, each hour; - Resting only--then in my power-- -When from the villages I run? -Then cosily you rest between - The folds of my best coat--from grime - And soot set free. At evening time -Alone I leave you here. How mean -Of you to be so petulant! - Not once of late have you beguiled - A moody hour of mine and smiled. -If I have sinned, it was not meant. -Come, now be patient with me, friend. - See, I will coax a smile--I’ll set - You this way--that way--no smile yet? -Just for a moment! Please unbend. -Then I shall turn you now oblique-- - Ah! what a change! Your eyes are quite - Like hers--they hold the heavens so bright-- -Those stars my lonely soul would seek. -I nearly called you Hebe, then-- - You were so like, for just a span, - As o’er your brow vibrations ran. -So they oft do o’er Hebe’s, when -Some mischief, brewing in her mind, - Sends laughter ripples o’er her skin-- - Her mirth will out when mischief’s in. -Where might you her resemblance find? -Her laughter is a wondrous sound-- - Sorrow, sadness, find their level. - Where do joy and gladness revel? -Ah, where? Where Hebe can be found! -You know her not; yet you are she - Who made you negative. The match - Is sometimes perfect. Did you catch -Her glance when thoughts perhaps of me-- -Alas! that could not be. She knew - Me not when you were fashioned, friend, - And never dreamed where you would wend -Mile after mile with me, to rue -The day when you were sent to hear - A million questions. Pity you? - I do! No woman, false or true, -Is in listening long your peer! -Heavens! What have you heard me tell? - What rapture have you witnessed--oft - Despair--at which you ever scoffed? -The gamut--all from heaven to hell-- -All passion’s swift vagaries seen-- - My longing, pleading, anxious nights, - And day’s distracted hours. What fights -With self, with selfishness between! -Have you seen all, heard all, known all? - Then you must be the wisest sphinx - That wisdom new and ancient links. -But you are silent as a wall -Without a mark. So should it be. - For she must never know what I - When all alone go through. - Now lie -Down flat--there! Let me once more see -Into your eyes, ere to that shore-- - Where sleep may be--I go tonight - With thoughts of her, my joy’s delight, -To lull me gently evermore. - - - - -SONG - - -I seek your lips with my fond eyes, - My sight is weary, dear; -My heart with longing all day cries, - For you when you are near. -When you are near and others take - Your eyes and lips from me, -And in my soul deep surges make, - As tempests in the sea. - -I seek your lips and press them not, - My own are parched with pain; -My aching eyes are dim and hot-- - My soul hopes on in vain. -The day is gone, and you are lost, - The night for me is lone-- -And through its hours I count the cost - Of days without my own. - - - - -HELL - - -Hell holds no terror I shall ever fear, -For earth when you are absent is my hell; -Nor thought of meeting can my torment quell, -For loneliness is black, and cold, and drear. -This hell is dark! My passion is a flame! -Its anguish is a never dying fire, -And longing--hope that never dare aspire, -But die, in loneliness from whence it came. - Heav’n though is kind and lets me sometimes in, - Then hell is all forgotten, and its woe - Fades like the dew dispersed by summer’s morn, - And I am purged of all my pain and sin. - Such moments shine like jewels--then I go - Back to the dreary hell where pain was born. - - - - -ALONE - - -The mocking fiends by day -Make frenzied play -Around my loneliness; -The haunting sprites delight -To sport at night, -And jeer at my soul’s wretchedness; -Imprisoned in the boundary of a mind -Holding but one thought; only one can find -The thought of you! -You, far away, -In silence wrapped. -With all Hell’s crew -About me gay, -And I in loneliness am trapped. - -Not God nor Devil ease -The torture of a lonely soul, -For haunting thoughts will cling, -And naught relief can bring-- -No recreation please. -Grim misery must take its toll -Of tears and pain-- -And work is vain! - -The vanquished mind in scorn -Sneers on its child; -His work, and damns it be forlorn, -And with it all creative work -Henceforward be reviled. -Work? Where? Not here! Within these walls? -Work! What? Come, try it now, -And answer every thought that calls -In every moment. Tell me how -One single minute, pray, -My mind can get away -From her, the absent one-- -Come, tell me, and my work is done. - -The air! Go out and roam the field. -Sit in the sun--or rain; -Or count the stars again; -Or tell the steps long footsore journeys have revealed. -Do something. Go! But what? -What, leave that thought behind? -Where go? Where that is not -The burden of my mind? - -Forget. Why, all the fiends of midnight hours -Yell that drab word at me; it falls in showers -Of rattling drops, -And never stops, -Until my ears -Nigh burst, -And I accurst -With all Hell’s fears! - -Still there are moments when -Relief comes to my ken, -Then I admire my torturer sublime. -The silence of her absence is like time -A million years beyond this day-- -Like stillness of forgotten tombs, -Where Nineveh, once gay, -Stood mighty, where now the sandstorm booms -O’er a desert quite as lonely as my heart. -She leaves me, like a queen, to bear the smart -Of her superb indifference and calm-- -Unconscious of the harm -Such loneliness can do! - -The day when it is new -Dawns dark and drear. -Each hour a bier -On which I lay my thought, -And see it come to life again-- -Reincarnated spirit, caught -Back, to murder it in agony, and then-- -The weary strife goes on and on, -The minutes reek with blood, -And then the fiends of loneliness soon don -The inky cloak with scarlet hood, -And round me chant their racking dirges chill, -And bring their terrors on to slay my will. - -First, slimy, drooling Jealousy appears-- -A female draped in timid lover’s fears-- -She minces, ambles, leers at me, -And whispers tales, maliciously. -The spume of Hell’s presumption she, -The horror of the lonely. See! -How she begins her work-- -The craft! the skill! -It enters like a dirk-- -The soul to kill. - -She fails, and vanishes in mist. -My soul is adamant, and will resist. -Then Poison comes, in silvery sheen, -The figure holds a cup between -The palms of outstretched hands, -And in a pleasant tone commands me, “Drink! -And no more think. -Why suffer earth’s delirious pain? -The yearning heart that yearns in vain -Will know no peace until the light -Goes out in never-ending night. -I bring you here the only balm -For loneliness. Drink, and be calm! -Where all is still no aching mind -Can harrow you--peace you will find.” -Then Poison hies away; -To tempt me when despair -May crush me some dread day, -And I no longer care! - -They fail to find me apt, -So on comes License garbed -In golden lace, and wrapped -About her waist a serpent barbed. -Hell’s finest figure walks -With dignity and grace; -Beseechingly she talks, -And modest is her face. -The fiends do well. They know -The jade -Must masquerade, -Seem innocence, aglow, -My loneliness to break and then beguile! -The trick is hardly worth a smile. -Still I am left alone -To wrestle with the spawn -That comes from Hell to fawn -On me. Can soul atone -For this one cruel act of thine, -My torturer, divine? -Can thoughts so merciless afflict -The mind and leave it sane? -Or bubbles burst, when they are pricked, -And seem the same again? -The weariness of longing and its woe, -The evil thoughts drear loneliness will sow, -The torrid tears, -Abhorrent fears, -The fretful waiting, -The frenzied hating; -All come to me, by night, by day, -When you are far away. - - * * * * - -Tired mind is easy prey -For hideous imagination’s play. - - - - -ROAMING - - -Is there no place where I might rest? - No harbour for my soul? -Must I go roaming on unblest, - Without a chart or goal? - -Go searching for a place where peace - May soothe away my pain; -Some lonely nook where ills may cease, - And nothing be all gain? - -And yet, with all the pain and tears, - That lonely sorrows bring; -Though life’s besetting woes are fears, - To hope’s frail staff I cling. - -My fears are hopes in joy’s disguise, - My hopes are fears in flight, -Which seek an earthly paradise, - Beyond the range of sight. - -So nestle, pain, you constant friend, - Close to my longing heart-- -What matter how the story end-- - We two shall never part. - -And yet there is a place I know, - Where all griefs are forgot-- -A breast to which I ever go, - E’en knowing it is not. - -I go to that dear place to lose - All fears, all woes, all pains; -It is the paradise I choose, - Where life eternal reigns! - -Where life is drawn anew from springs, - Which flow with every bliss, -And to me joy celestial brings - New hope with every kiss! - -Alas, the breast of love is wide, - Too precious for one life, -And others cannot be denied-- - For what is love but strife? - -So, ever seeking, trudge and roam, - Through hours of chill and gloom, -And make the silent night your home, - Where there is always room. - -Roam on, until a morn shall rise, - When you will wake from rest, -And know you have found paradise, - At last, upon her breast. - - - - -STORM - - -Grief is a drenching blast that purges love -Of all its dross and scum, and leaves it sweet -And holy in its excellence complete. -Love without grief no test of strength will prove. -The bitterness and pain, dread loneliness, -The ache of yearning, then the galling thought-- -Love’s deep passions in shattering gusts are caught, -And scattered wide apart when deep distress -Comes raging through the soul’s wide-open door; -Shaking the citadel of hope--the walls -Where all the dearest joys take refuge in-- -Searching the battered frame to find its core, -With that convulsive fury which appalls -The strongest heart that deepest Love would win. - - - - -THE VOID - - -The grey day dawns and sleep is gone, - The laggard hours are here to count-- -Like yesterday’s the sun shone on-- - A dreary stream from time’s old fount. - -Go, day, as fast as my heart beats, - Pass, minutes, with the speed of thought-- -Fly, as my soul, when it entreats - Swift passage where its love is sought. - -The present bridge with then and when, - Link past and future, dropping now; -Die, days, and rot like aged men, - Nights, vanish like a gamester’s vow! - -Hope, on in front, seeks out the way, - Doubt stays behind and scoffs at all, -Trust walks with calm all through the day, - Faith brightly shines through night’s deep pall. - -Life in the ever present hour, - Art in the prison of life’s pain, -Love in the torture of its power; - Death shares with sleep what joy should gain. - - - - -ABSENCE - - -There is no anguish like the mourning heart, -That mourns for its lost love and mourns in vain; -That is the anguish which defies all pain-- -Torture at which Prometheus’ soul would start! - -What agony can still the heart of joy, -That holds its loved one to its surging breast? -All hell can rage and not disturb that rest-- -Then Stygian tortures are but pain’s alloy! - - And what is absence but a gaping sore, - That aches and suffers every stinging thrust? - A burning lesion, or a bleeding rent, - That rives the soul of lovers to the core? - When hearts in absence stronger grow, then must - Those hearts have held no lover’s aliment! - - - - -WANDERING - - -The morning hath the sun for mate, - The night the moon for wife; -The wind and I, like things of hate, - Go on alone through life. - -The wind is cold, the wind is hot, - The wind is fierce and wild; -It stays not long in any spot, - It never is beguiled. - -Perhaps the wind might pause awhile - And whisper to the reeds, -If they would only rise and smile, - And ask the lone wind’s needs. - - - - -DESTINY - - -Here, let it be! I will not ask, -Dear God, what is my destiny. -With courage I will face the task-- -So, life, make what you will of me. - -Yet I would know what is this pain, -Which smites with cruel force my mind? -And what can sorrow hope to gain -If woe is all my heart can find? - -Why linger here? There must be rest -In some fair haven Thou hast made, -Or is the region of the blest -As vain a place as this? Then fade - -Sweet hope! And let the clouds of night -Assemble o’er my weary head-- -Why question more about the fight -Of souls that battle with the dead? - -Still destiny may be some song -My aching heart might learn to sing, -A melody, both sweet and long, -And singing, heaven nearer bring! - -Perhaps my doubts are shadows chill; -My mind may harbour questions vain. -My destiny! the merest rill -On ocean’s wide, unresting main. - -Then Life and Death may count as past-- -Things gone beneath the sodden clay. -For some great part, Thou, me might cast, -To light dejection’s gloomy day. - -Yes, there is Love! Love ever bright, -Love worshipping the soul of her -Who came from thee--with morn’s first light-- -Embodiment of all things fair. - -This let me do. Take Death! Take Life! -And leave me Love’s celestial glow. -And save me from the toil and strife, -Which loveless souls are doomed to know. - - - - -EAST WIND - - -Speak, east wind, did you meet my love - When you came o’er the sea? -And did she give a message kind - For you to bring to me? - -When you were passing through the haunts - Of happy, garish men, -Did you once linger in her hair, - And murmur to her then - -A word, reminding her of one - Far out on western plains, -Who looks, and waits, from morn ’til night, - With hope that never wanes? - -With hope that she will send some word-- - One moment of her mind-- -To prove that when we meet again - My true love I shall find? - -No message, east wind, do you bring, - You leave me lone and cold, -Farewell, thou heartless wanderer, - Go, chilling young and old! - -Go journeys long in search of hills - Where only echoes dwell, -Wild east wind, scorn the love-lorn ones, - Who would their sad tales tell. - - - - -LULLABY - - -Where is peace but on your breast? -Where does slumbering joy lie down? -Where do hope and gladness rest, -Like bright jewels in a crown? - -All are found where your heart beats; -Like strong children in repose, -When the twilight hour retreats, -And day’s golden moments close! - -Lull me, dearest, into sleep, -Let me find a pillow fair -On your breast, where breathings deep -Rock me, far away from care. - -Kiss my aching brow, and then-- -Lay your hands upon my head; -Peace will come to me again, -When your bosom is my bed. - - - - -RESURRECTION - - -When all my friends say “He is gone,” - And foes agree to let me rest, -When ling’ring night falls down upon - The heart that ached, the restless breast. - -There is a way to conquer death, - To rob the grey shade of its spoil, -E’en when is spent my last deep breath - And naught is left of love and toil. - -Then come, dear love, and look on me; - Pour your bright spirit in your glance; -My soul suffuse with joy of thee, - Straight from your eyes which do enhance - -The light of heaven! One look will raise - Me from my bier, and make me whole, -Restoring youth and gladsome days-- - Elixir of my yearning soul! - - - - -LAUGHTER - - -Dear love, when droop my weary eyes, -And patient Death comes near and cries: -“Tired soul, come forth, and follow me.” -I ask that thou, my love, shall be -Wrapped close to my desiring breast, -So at the last I shall be blest -With transports of thy laughter. Laugh -In my arms ecstatic glee, -And cheer my soul, and I shall quaff -Thy fragrant breath and smile at thee. -Dear heart of joy, let my last hour -Know all thy wondrous merry power-- -Rich in the graces of thy charms, -Laugh on through each entrancing kiss; -When I am locked in thy dear arms -Laugh me away to Death in bliss. - - - - -ALCHEMY - - -I was ill, and with a touch -She reclaimed my waning strength. -Bless her, God, and give her much -Joy in love, and days of length. -What is tragic -Pain to me? -Such her magic-- -Alchemy. -She smiled on me -When I was ill -And, lo! -From pain set free -I go -And drink my fill -At her beauty’s fountain flowing! -Oh, the bliss of breathing -Fragrance from her graces blowing; -Grace like colour seething, -From a thousand flowers, -Scenting June’s rich bowers. -I am well, and she has made -Every sorrow -Bring a morrow -Happier than today. -Every sadness is repaid -With rejoicing; -Like a voicing -Woodland in the month of May. -Merry is her soul, -And witty, too, her nimble mind-- -Like a golden bowl -Of medicines of every kind. -Laughter lurks in all her dimples, -Loving hands of hers give simples-- -Soothing, cheering, happy one-- -Treasure of the golden sun! - - - - -SURRENDER - - -Take every joy my nature holds, -Take every bliss my heart enfolds; -Come, capture every one, -While youth and beauty run, -Locked in each other’s lithesome arms-- -Like flowers entwined. -Cast from thy mind -Those fearful, hindering alarms. -Take, to the last deep drop, -Nor think when you would stop, -My strength’s rich wine. -Love made divine -The rapturous blood of me for you. -Red, full and bright, -Like Vallambrosa’s vineyard dew -On autumn’s night. -My mind explore, its treasures take, -So long as joy is there -To find, and leave it bare -Of every thought that might awake -New transports in your soul-- -Then break the empty bowl, -So no one else may use -The vessel, should one choose. -My body clean and sweet enjoy, -’Twas made to serve your least delight, -And when at last our passions cloy, -In one fierce moment, rise and smite -With withering scorn, -And leave it shorn -Of all its energy and force. -Then, blasted, reel it down death’s course. -My soul? Nay, that, my love, you cannot hurt, -For it is thee. Look, and it will assert -Your image like a faithful stream, -Reflecting every feature of your form, -Showing the slightest, quickest gleam -From eyes which make it pass from cold to warm. -It is, O love, your heart, your pulse, your breath, -And only in your loss can it know death! -Here I surrender all my mind, -My heart, my body, all you find -In thought, in blood, in flesh, to serve thee well -In giving heaven--then, thou, consign to hell -Whate’er is left of me. -E’en then my joy shall be-- -That it was wrecked by thee. - - - - -WHAT IS DAY WITHOUT THE SUN? - - -What is day without the sun? - The night without the stars? -Ocean’s music would not run, - Without the sandy bars! - -Summer days without a rose-- - A fruitless Autumn would -Make the year a time of woes-- - Like Spring without a bud. - -What am I without my mate? - Without her bonny face? -A wanderer disconsolate-- - A being out of place. - -She is sun and stars to me-- - The Spring, and Summer too; -Autumn’s fruit her love will be, - To sweeten all I do! - - - - -THE MORN - - -She cometh like the sweet reprieving morn, -Clad in her flowing robes of golden light; -God’s angel of the day to clear the sight -Of him condemned long years, and left forlorn, -Deep in the dungeon of his loveless life, -With every yearning for a love supreme-- -Love shining only in a cruel dream! -And now his love appears to end the strife. - - Oh, love, thou gentle messenger, bend down, - Thy touch is soothing and thy smile is kind; - Speak to this sorrowing heart and bid its fears - Be gone forevermore. When as thy crown - Appears at dawn, and night flies on the wind, - So banish all my sorrows and their tears. - - - - -THE GARDEN MADE FOR ME - - -My love and I a garden made-- - So early in the spring, - When larks begin to sing-- -Frail violets a carpet laid, -Of tender blues, for my sweet maid, - When we were gardening. - -I did not see the garden grow-- - Fate turned me far astray, - Ere summer’s happy ray -The garden kissed, and all the glow -Of fragrant hours I did not know-- - My summer’s days were grey. - -I did not pick sweet blooms for her, - To make a crown to grace - Her head, and bonny face; -I wandered in a world so bare, -No flower of love perfumed the air, - No blossoms could I trace. - -Some lovers sow, some lovers reap, - And others never see - The gardens that might be; -Still, though I might not reap, I keep, -In dreams of her, the mem’ry deep - Of gardens made for me. - - - - -TO A REPEATER - - -Tell me truly, quaint repeater, -When will she permit me greet her? -Tell me when you sweetly chime-- -Name the day, and strike the time. - -On my heart you beat so gaily, -Where her heart has beaten daily; -She should think of us at night, -When we two count hours in flight. - -Quaint repeater, friend diurnal -(Like a truthful, faithful journal), -Make the minutes pass away, -Speed the night, and hasten day. - -Do you keep the hours correctly? -Hands that move so circumspectly -Ought, punctiliously, to show -When a lad to lass should go. - -Quaint repeater, faster, faster, -If you would avert disaster; -Make the long days swiftly fly, -Greeting hour is surely nigh. - -How can I exist in anguish, -When for her I fret and languish? -Quaint repeater, may I rest, -Where you lay, upon her breast! - - - - -THE MUSIC OF A DREAM - - -A song lies buried in my soul, -Its melody is silent there, -The glory of it I would roll -In ecstasy, if thou would’st care -To hear its sweet enchanting strain, -In some deep garden where the hills -Would echo its subdued refrain, -Where fragrance every cloister fills, -Where flowery carpets spread, for thee, -Of velvet petals of the rose, -Is where the song will flow from me -Into the heart thy lover knows. -My precious love, my one delight, -Thou art more fair than that first dawn -Which made the new-born world so bright; -When primal dews spread o’er the lawn -And grass held jewels in its sheath, -Where earth’s first flowers were kissed by day. -More fair, art thou, than Ceres’ wreath -For tender maidens crowned with May. -A song for thee, and thee alone, -No other ear shall know its theme; -My eastern pearl of rarest tone, -It is the music of a dream; -A dream of gushing, surging love -From never-saving, endless springs, -Down deep, as heaven is high above; -Its course, as wide as Cosmos flings -The starry gems which light the skies, -When nightingales pour out their song; -As soft as joy in lover’s eyes, -In climes, where nights of love are long. - - - - -A FLOWER - - -In all this world you are to me - A flower, serene, alone; -A sight kind heaven lets me see -When I am deep in misery, - And hope of joy near flown. - -You, like a bloom when woods are grey, - Arresting soul and mind, -With beauty bidding me to stay, -And worship you with prayer and lay, - And ease for sorrow find. - -Oh, flower of perfect loveliness, - Oh, bloom of spring’s fair day, -What gentle joys do you impress -Upon my soul, with happiness - Which sweeps the clouds away! - - - - -WHAT WOULD YOU DO? - - - What would you do? - If you loved me, - As I love you. -If you in absence sad, -Longed for a moment’s joy-- -My voice to make you glad-- -Would you the time employ -In going to your lad? - And whisper: “Mine alone, - Yes, I am thine, my own; -In all this busy world--we two-- -You live for me, and I for you.” - - What would you do? - If you loved me, - As I love you. - If you were far away, -And hungered for a word, -Just one--to brighten day; -Some message for a bird -To carry, would you say? - “My lover, mine alone, - Yes, I am thine, my own; -In all this busy world--just two-- -You live for me, and I for you.” - - - - -HER SOUL’S SWEET HEART - - -It is the heart within the soul of her -That shines, and sets her lily face aglow. -Turning to rosy blush the velvet snow, -To make the pearly morn look far less fair! -It is her soul’s sweet heart that makes her eyes -The envied of the stars, when glances bright -Mount up and gleam from her kind orbs at night, -And spread celestial fire across the skies! - - No heart of flesh and blood could glorify - A form divine, and make so sweet a face - As that which smiles in pity from above-- - Her spirit ’tis, which beats mysteriously, - And gives her every action heaven’s grace, - And wins my human heart to God-like love! - - - - -I LOVE YOU SO! - - - I love you so! -What sacrifice is meet -That I should make, my sweet, - That I might show -My love in some rich way, -To brighten all your day? - To keep from strife -Our years of love, dear wife? - - I love you so! -My life is naught to me-- -Of use to none but thee-- - Oh, that you know! -Yet would its end once bring -You joy, how could I cling - To it, and bear -The thought it brought you care? - - I love you so! -There is no death I fear -To save you pain, my dear. - For death I owe -To love, for your sweet grace! -Loved vision of your face - Rest in my eyes, -When death takes my last sighs. - - I love you so! -My own, my precious mate, -I fear not any fate-- - No pain, no woe-- -So long as I may die -Beneath the smiling sky. - Your eyes for me -Make heaven’s canopy! - - - - -LOVE’S LAST QUEST - - -She came to me, a messenger of spring, -Borne on the wings of ecstasy, and joy -Flowed o’er me like a sunburst’s splendid ray. -My silent soul was moved again to sing, -My saddened mind was purged of its alloy-- -She led me up from cheerless night to day. - -She came, a vision of delights I dreamed -When all the world of wonder moved my heart; -She brought fair prospects to my fading sight, -And proved that life was dearer than it seemed; -She led me back to rosy realms of art-- -She, sweet embodiment of art’s delight! - -She came, and changed the purpose of the years; -With grace she gave long days of peace to me. -Her gift--the jewel of her love she gave, -A glory and a passion without peers; -As full of splendour as the orient sea, -Where pearls of heaven rest beneath the wave. - -She came, and shed her gentle loveliness -Upon me, trembling ’neath her spell sublime, -And chose me for her loving mate; to know -Her worth, and find in her love’s happiness; -She came, and made a wondrous dream divine, -Her beauty and her rapture all aglow. - -Blest vision of the dream youth sought in vain; -Sweet chalice, where commingled rest all aims; -Enchanting mystery of love’s last quest, -What can I offer thee that thou would’st deign -Commensurate (all that the world acclaims -Most precious things) with those rich gifts--the best-- - -The rarest love, thou didst bestow on me? -There’s naught in all the stores of earth to find -To give in just return--no star above! -Save what thou’st made--my own deep love for thee-- -A heart and soul renewed, a richer mind-- -My life’s devotion and a deathless love! - - - - -CONSECRATION - - -What shall I do for thee, my love? - What glory can I win? -What aim is there too high for me? - What strife to conquer in? -To thee, my love, whate’er befall, -I give my life, my soul, my all. - -No joy, no pleasure shall I seek, - In which you have no share; -All pain and sorrow I shall keep - From you, and I shall care -For every hour in which you live, -As ’twere the last that God would give. - -Your worshiper receive with joy. - My happy lips now seal, -So all my thought and words may be - For thee. Then I shall kneel, -And vow ’fore heaven my love is true, -And consecrate its life to you. - - -THE END - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLUE AND PURPLE *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. 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