Poems of Passion | Page 4

put the art away,?Or anything which stands 'twixt me and you.?But that strange essence God bestowed, I say,?To permeate the work He gave to do:?And it cannot be drained, dissolved, or sent?Through any channel save the one He meant.
FRIENDSHIP AFTER LOVE.
After the fierce midsummer all ablaze
Has burned itself to ashes, and expires?In the intensity of its own fires,?There come the mellow, mild, St. Martin days,?Crowned with the calm of peace, but sad with haze.
So after Love has led us, till he tires?Of his own throes and torments and desires,?Comes large-eyed friendship: with a restful gaze?He beckons us to follow, and across
Cool, verdant vales we wander free from care.?Is it a touch of frost lies in the air??Why are we haunted with a sense of loss?
We do not wish the pain back, or the heat;?And yet, and yet, these days are incomplete.
[Illustration:]
[Illustration:]
QUERIES.
Well, how has it been with you since we met?That last strange time of a hundred times??When we met to swear that we could forget--?I your caresses, and you my rhymes--?The rhyme of my lays that rang like a bell,?And the rhyme of my heart with yours, as well?
How has it been since we drank that last kiss,?That was bitter with lees of the wasted wine,?When the tattered remains of a threadbare bliss,?And the worn-out shreds of a joy divine,?With a year's best dreams and hopes, were cast?Into the rag-bag of the Past?
Since Time, the rag-buyer, hurried away,?With a chuckle of glee at a bargain made,?Did you discover, like me, one day,?That, hid in the folds of those garments frayed,?Were priceless jewels and diadems--?The soul's best treasures, the heart's best gems?
Have you, too, found that you could not supply?The place of those jewels so rare and chaste??Do all that you borrow or beg or buy?Prove to be nothing but skilful paste??Have you found pleasure, as I found art,?Not all-sufficient to fill your heart?
Do you sometimes sigh for the tattered shreds?Of the old delight that we cast away,?And find no worth in the silken threads?Of newer fabrics we wear to-day??Have you thought the bitter of that last kiss?Better than sweets of a later bliss?
What idle queries!--or yes or no--?Whatever your answer, I understand?That there is no pathway by which we can go?Back to the dead past's wonderland;?And the gems he purchased from me, from you,?There is no rebuying from Time, the Jew.
[Illustration: "THE OLD DELIGHT THAT WE CAST AWAY"]
UPON THE SAND.
All love that has not friendship for its base?Is like a mansion built upon the sand.?Though brave its walls as any in the land,?And its tall turrets lift their heads in grace;?Though skilful and accomplished artists trace?Most beautiful designs on every hand,?And gleaming statues in dim niches stand,?And fountains play in some flow'r-hidden place:
Yet, when from the frowning east a sudden gust?Of adverse fate is blown, or sad rains fall,?Day in, day out, against its yielding wall,?Lo! the fair structure crumbles to the dust.?Love, to endure life's sorrow and earth's woe,?Needs friendship's solid mason-work below.
REUNITED.
Let us begin, dear love, where we left off;?Tie up the broken threads of that old dream,?And go on happy as before, and seem?Lovers again, though all the world may scoff.
Let us forget the graves which lie between?Our parting and our meeting, and the tears?That rusted out the gold-work of the years,?The frosts that fell upon our gardens green.
Let us forget the cold, malicious Fate?Who made our loving hearts her idle toys,?And once more revel in the old sweet joys?Of happy love. Nay, it is not too late!
Forget the deep-ploughed furrows in my brow;?Forget the silver gleaming in my hair;?Look only in my eyes! Oh! darling, there?The old love shone no warmer then than now.
Down in the tender deeps of thy dear eyes?I find the lost sweet memory of my youth,?Bright with the holy radiance of thy truth,?And hallowed with the blue of summer skies.
Tie up the broken threads and let us go,?Like reunited lovers, hand in hand,?Back, and yet onward, to the sunny land?Of our To Be, which was our Long Ago.
WHAT SHALL WE DO?
Here now forevermore our lives must part.?My path leads there, and yours another way.?What shall we do with this fond love, dear heart??It grows a heavier burden day by day.
Hide it? In all earth's caverns, void and vast,?There is not room enough to hide it, dear;?Not even the mighty storehouse of the past?Could cover it from our own eyes, I fear.
Drown it? Why, were the contents of each ocean?Merged into one great sea, too shallow then?Would be its waters to sink this emotion?So deep it could not rise to life again.
Burn it? In all the furnace flames below,?It would not in a thousand years expire.?Nay! it would thrive, exult, expand, and grow,?For from its very birth it fed on fire.
Starve it? Yes, yes, that is the only way.?Give it no food, of