Part 3
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