Fleurs de lys and Other Poems | Page 9

and kissed away thy lingering tears;
While ever
plunged the billows on the beach
And sent their dreary cadence to our
ears.
The sun was swimming in the purple tide,
His golden locks far
floating on the sea,
When I stole forth yestre'en and sat beside
The
stranded wreck to dream again of thee.
Across my cheek I felt the
marsh wind sweep,
Still called the sea along the darkening shore,

Again the changeless stars began to peep;
Naught save thyself had
changed since days of yore.
O! happy period of my early youth!
When Love was master, Reason
but a slave,
When friends seemed heroes, woman crystal truth,


Success the certain portion of the brave:
Come back, come back and
give me ere I die
The pure ideal of my life again!
In vain I plead.
Time's snowy ashes lie
Cold on the hearth-stone of my aged brain.
AT CHATEAUGUAY.
Memory gleams like a gem at night
Through the gloom of to-day for
me,
Bringing dreams of a summer bright
At Chateauguay.
Summer sleeps in the ripening corn,
Sunlight glitters on wood and lea,

Scent of flowers on the air is borne
At Chateauguay.
Swiftly rushes the river by,
Through the lake to the far-off sea,
Full
of light as a maiden's eye,
At Chateauguay.
Stands a house by the river side,
(Weeds upspring where the hearth
should be),
Only its tottering walls abide
At Chateauguay.
Birds are singing the live-long day,
Trembling, stoopeth an aspen tree.

Eager to hear what the wind will say
At Chateauguay.
Still the sunlight around me falls,
Still in fancy I seem to see
Two
who stand on the crumbling walls
At Chateauguay.
Once more wanders a brown-eyed maid
Up the rough, country road

with me,
Swinging her hat by its slender braid,
At Chateauguay.
Once for a moment more we stay
Under the tattling aspen tree--
Birds are sweetly lilting to-day
At Chateauguay.
Tree, thou art dear for that sweet tryst,
Dear, for the maiden's sake, to
me
Is each spot that her feet have kissed
At Chateauguay.
A BIRTHDAY.
Fifteen years have come and gone,
Maiden since thy large, brown
eyes
Opened first and looked upon
Wintry English skies.
Fifteen treasure ships they were,
Sailing on life's sunlit sea,
Bearing
frankincense and myrrh
Sent from heaven to thee:
Fifteen pilgrims, old and gray,
Mounted upon moments fleet,
Who
have seen thee but to lay
Pleasure at thy feet:
Fifteen maids who, like a queen,
Decked thee, Sweet, with beauty
rare,
Till the world hath never seen
Maiden half so fair.
And a sixteenth year to-day
Brings a wreath of budding hours,

Saying: "Let not one decay;
All must grow to flowers."
All have not the self-same needs;
Loving smiles are life to some,

Others but by kindly deeds.
To perfection come.
Some are quickened by a tear,
Some by hopes and pleasures dead;

Take them, Bright Eyes, without fear,
God is overhead.

THE LOVERS.
With silken tresses floating free,
A dark-eyed maiden wanders

Alone beside the murmuring sea,
And of her lover ponders.
The fisher boats at anchor ride,
The summer moon is waking;
Its
beams of silver on the tide
In rippling flakes are breaking.
The golden sands in murmurs speak,
Her dainty foot that presses,

The salt sea wind upon her cheek
Is lavish of caresses.
Afar upon a winding stream
A youth is softly rowing;
Above his
head the star-worlds gleam,
And bright the moon is glowing.
The trees are swaying to and fro,
Their shadowy boughs extending,

And leaf-born music, sweet and low,
Is with the night-wind blending.
Far off, where meadows kiss the stream,
A golden light is winking:

Upon the waves its soft rays gleam,
From crest to hollow sinking.
Upon the youth and maiden's heart
The lamp of love is shining,

Though distance holds them both apart,
Their souls are intertwining.
THE SEA SHELL.
'Tis a dainty shell, 'tis a fragile shell
At my feet that the wild waves
threw,
And I send it thee, that its lips may tell
In thine ear that my
heart is true.
It will tell thee how by the sunlit sea
Pass the hours we were wont to
share.
On its pearl-pink lips is a kiss for thee
That my own loving
lips placed there.
In a lady's hand it will snugly lie,
'Tis as thin as a red rose-leaf,
Yet
it holds the seagull's sorrowing cry,
And the roar of the tide-lashed
reef.

In its ivory cave, though the mighty sea
May find room, and to spare,
to move,
Yet this same sea shell that I send to thee
Is too small to
contain my love.
A JANUARY DAY.
King Winter sleeps. His daughter, Spring,
His sceptre steals away,

And, laughing, bids fair Nature bring
For once a perfect day.
Bright glows the sun in azure skies,
And balmy blows the breeze,

On gayer wing the sparrow flies,
And softly sway the trees.
The seasons run like some great stream
That to the ocean flows,

The waves that here in sunshine gleam
Bound there in mountain
snows:
And, as where darkling waters steal,
Drear walls of rock between,

Yet in their depths a gem reveal
That glows with sunny sheen.
So in this blustering month that bears
The banner of the year,
Such
days as this with balmy airs
Amid the storms appear.
It is but meet that thy birthday
Should open bright