Love or Fame | Page 5

grace,

Withal like some strange, haunting, beauteous face;
A woman's name, by woman's truth made dear,
That leans upon itself
and knows no fear,
And yet a name a shrinking girl might wear,

With girlish ease, devoid of thought and care.
And she is worthy of
this name so true--
This girl with thoughtful eyes of darkest hue,

This maiden stepping o'er the golden line
That separates the child
from woman divine.
Not yet she feels the longing, vague unrest

That ever fills the woman's throbbing breast,
But with a childlike

questioning after truth,
She lingers yet amid the dreams of youth.
And now upon the bounding ocean's shore
She stands where creep
the wavelets more and more,
Until at last the rocky ledge they meet,

And break in foam around her lingering feet.
Her eyes glance
downward in a careless way,
As though she loved their soft caressing
play,
And fain would stand and muse forever there,
Lulled by their
murmuring sound.
Placid and fair
The ocean lies before her dreamy eyes,
Stretched
forth in beauty 'neath the sunny skies,
And through the clouds' far
lifting, sheeny mist
She sees the pale blue skies by sunlight kissed.

Enraptured by the calm and holy scene,
She stands a creature pure
and glad; serene,
Her eyes glance heavenward and a roseate shade

Plays o'er her Hebe features--perfect made.
A child of nature, she has never known
The arts and wiles which
worldlier spirits own;
She loves the ocean's ever changing play,

When round her form is flung its dashing spray,
And oft she laughs in
wildest, merriest glee
When folded close within its billows free.
She loves the wildwood's green and leafy maze,
Within whose foliage
hide the sun's bright rays;
And like a child she hoards the bright-eyed
flowers,
Companions of so many happy hours.
With loving heart
she greets each form of earth,
To which God's kindly hand has given
birth.
But better far than all, she loves to roam
Far on the cliff's lone
height, and there at eve
To watch the dark ships as they wander home.

Strange dreams in this calm hour her fancies weave,
So quaint and
odd, they seem but shadowy rays,
Caught from the sunset's deep,
mysterious haze.
Lo! now she stands like some pale statue fair,
With eyes cast down
and careless falling hair;
She vaguely dreams of things that are to be,

A woman's future, noble, fresh and free;
And o'er her face youth's

crimson colors flow,
As with a beating heart she thinks she'll give

Her life to one true heart, and with a glow
Of pride she vows her
future life to live
So good and true that all her days shall seem
But
the fulfillment of his heart's proud dream.
Yet soon she trembles with some unknown thought,
A vague and
restless longing fills her breast,
And with a passionate fear her mind
is wrought.
She cannot case away the strange unrest;
With hands
clasped close in attitude of prayer
She stands, her pleading face so
young and fair,
Is turned unto the skies, but no, not here
Will God
speak all unto her listening ear;
Too soon in dark, deep strife upon
this shore
Her soul will yield its peace forevermore.
And then she hurries home with flying feet,
The faces of that humble
home to meet;
For there in peace her dear old parents dwell,
That
simple twain who love this maid so well
They fain would keep her
with them ever there,
A thoughtless child, free from all grief and care.

But ah! they cannot understand the heart,
Which turns from all
their loving ways apart,
And dwells within a region of its own.

Within that home she seems to stand alone,
While all unseen the
forces gather, day
By day, that o'er her life shall hold their sway;

And like a fragile flower before the storm,
She bows her head and
ends her slender form,
For even like the flower she must stand
And
brave the tempest, for 'tis God's command.
And like to her how many a girl has stood
Upon the unknown brink
of womanhood
And sought in vain from guiding hand and power;

But unlike her in that dread trial hour,
They've lost their faith, for
Hilda's trusting mind,
E'en though it stood alone, had so much
strength,
And faith that to life's problem she could find
Solution
strange and subtle; even though at length
She might complain and
grieve o'er all the wasted past.
Oh! life is dark and full of unseen care,


And better were it if all girls thus fair
And young were truly
understood at last.
For every girl some time will feel the need
Of

loving hearts to strengthen and to lead,
When first are opened to her
wondering eyes
The world's fair fields and seeming paradise.
She
only sees the beauty--hears the song,
Knows not the hidden snares,
nor dreams of wrong.
'Tis woman's happiest time, and yet 'tis true
A
sombre tinge may mar its brightest hue.
For girlhood too will have its
doubts and fears,
Will lose the past and long for coming years,
And
sad indeed when youth is left alone
To face the coming future all
unknown.
The eyes see not that should be strong and keen;
While
powerless, weak girlhood stands between
The tides of life, and
though its aims are high,
How often will they