Harry | Page 2

might not
have been.

Treason to love, that such thoughts should arise!
In Heaven I know
our marriage was made;
Heaven is somewhere beyond those blue
skies,
Why am I weeping and feeling afraid?

Happy the angels, who tenderly plan
These beautiful compacts to
glorify man!
Happy the man and the woman who take
Humbly their
crown for the dear angels' sake!
Love in our hearts giving strength to endure,
Eternal itself, makes
eternity sure;
Earth growing perfect, unspeakably dear,
Only makes
heaven seem yet more near.
Why do I tremble in fanciful doubt?
All things--or nothing--had
brought it about;
Whatever might happen, I must be his;
What
signifies talking_, since _so it is?
So there came the last of the careless days:
Did time in the very same
manner move?
(My heart almost stops in a mute amaze
To think
that it ever was not in love.)
Up in the morning, as gay as a lark,
With a glad good-bye to the
pleasant night;
Without an idea I am in the dark,
Or that just beyond
is the real light;
Running down stairs, with a laugh as I ran,
Free as 'the blossom that
hangs on the bough'--
I never had given a thought to a man,
And
why in the world should I give one now.
Dancing along through the hawthorn-crown'd lane,
'Neath showers of
flowers whose name I bear,
Was it not strange I should find Harry
Vane
Coming to meet me just then and just there?
Is it for this our two lives have been led,
Each travelling on its
different way,
To meet with the blue sky over our head
Shaded by
delicate blossoms of may?
Little reck'd I whom I happened to meet,
That I had a lover I never
guess'd,
As I danc'd along with my careless feet,
And the heart of a
child within my breast.

I had seen him a dozen times before,
With a pleasure that brought no
sudden change;
I knew that he lik'd me--but nothing more:
O Harry!
to think of it is so strange!
Sauntering on with the birds and the flowers,
Talking of things that
we know or we knew--
Of the pretty wishes that once were ours
In
long-ago times when our years were few:
A wild little bird skims rapidly by;
And I tell of a day when my heart
was stirr'd,
And I cried as only a child can cry,
That I was a girl
instead of a bird.
'And oh!' in an eager manner I cried,
'I am feeling the very same wish
to-day:
Oh for two wild wings, and to spread them wide,
And rush
through the sky away and away.'
I cast up my eyes, to the smiling skies,
And smiling I lower'd their
glance again,
And as they were lower'd they met his eyes,
And a
thrill went through me of sweetest pain.
I blush'd when I thought of my eager words--
But why do I blush?
and why do I care?
What does it matter to me and the birds,
Or the
pretty blossoms or scented air?
'And I,' he replied, 'have my wishes too:
Time teaches the real
meaning of things;
And only this moment, looking at you,
I felt that
an angel need not have wings.'
We had sauntered on to the garden gate:
He look'd in my eyes ere we
turn'd to part:
I walk'd away in a manner sedate,
And with
something new just touching my heart.
When the first violet open'd in bloom,
Was it surpris'd at its lovely
perfume?
Why does not History tell us, who met
First, the sweet
breath of the first violet?
Rather I'd know it than facts that are
known--
As when some tyrant ascended some throne,
A battle was

fought, a comet display'd,
Coals were discover'd, or steam-engines
made.
I can no moment recall, ere I knew
Perfume pertain'd to those
blossoms of blue;
Had the first knowledge of sweetness like this

Touch'd me to-day, what perfection of bliss!
Children with all that
creation can grant
Scarcely will miss the one pleasure I want,
Just
to remember the day and the hour
When, by spring breezes
caressingly blown,
Delicate fragrance of violet flower
First touch'd
my senses, becoming my own!
And what can it be--oh, what can it be,
That has garnish'd earth with
a golden grace?
What is this something that entering me
Changes
my life in a minute of space?
When I first notic'd the power in his eyes--
Watching to see if they
praise or condemn,
Blushing to meet them--came into the skies

Beauty that never has vanish'd from them.
When I first stopp'd in the midst of my mirth,
While my heart beat in
a tremulous way
Only to see him,--came over the earth,
Glory that
earth has retain'd to this day.
When the first whisper assaulted my ear,
When the first pressure
astonish'd my hand,
When I first fancied that _I_ might be dear--

Life was a miracle joyous and grand.
When he first woo'd me with prayers, for his own,
Suddenly came an
eclipse of the light:
Sighing, I wish'd he would let me alone;

Smiling, I long'd to hide out of his sight.
Life being lit by a fairy-like gleam,
Sparkling and glittering, tender
and pure,
Was not he