Poems of Passion | Page 6

most truly.?What though to Romney and to Paul I swore?The self-same words; my heart now worships newly.
We never feel the same emotion twice:?No two ships ever ploughed the self-same billow;?The waters change with every fall and rise;?So, Guilo, go contented to thy pillow.
THE DUET.
I was smoking a cigarette;?Maud, my wife, and the tenor, McKey,?Were singing together a blithe duet,?And days it were better I should forget?Came suddenly back to me--?Days when life seemed a gay masque ball,?And to love and be loved was the sum of it all.
As they sang together, the whole scene fled,?The room's rich hangings, the sweet home air,?Stately Maud, with her proud blond head,?And I seemed to see in her place instead?A wealth of blue-black hair,?And a face, ah! your face--yours, Lisette;?A face it were wiser I should forget.
We were back--well, no matter when or where;?But you remember, I know, Lisette.?I saw you, dainty and debonair,?With the very same look that you used to wear?In the days I should forget.?And your lips, as red as the vintage we quaffed,?Were pearl-edged bumpers of wine when you laughed.
Two small slippers with big rosettes?Peeped out under your kilt skirt there,?While we sat smoking our cigarettes?(Oh, I shall be dust when my heart forgets')?And singing that self-same an,?And between the verses, for interlude,?I kissed your throat and your shoulders nude.
You were so full of a subtle file,?You were so warm and so sweet, Lisette;?You were everything men admire,?And there were no fetters to make us tire,?For you were--a pretty grisette.?But you loved, as only such natures can,?With a love that makes heaven or hell for a man.

They have ceased singing that old duet,?Stately Maud and the tenor, McKey.?"You are burning your coat with your cigarette,?And qu' avez vous, dearest, your lids are wet,"?Maud says, as she leans o'er me.?And I smile, and lie to her, husband-wise,?"Oh, it is nothing but smoke in my eyes."
[Illustration: "I LOVE THEE; THEE ALONE"]
[Illustration:]
LITTLE QUEEN.
Do you remember the name I wore--?The old pet-name of Little Queen--?In the dear, dead days that are no more,?The happiest days of our lives, I ween??For we loved with that passionate love of youth?That blesses but once with its perfect bliss--?A love that, in spite of its trust and truth,?Seems never to thrive in a world like this.
I lived for you, and you lived for me;?All was centered in "Little Queen;"?And never a thought in our hearts had we?That strife or trouble could come between.?What utter sinking of self it was!?How little we cared for the world of men!?For love's fair kingdom and love's sweet laws?Were all of the world and life to us then.
But a love like ours was a challenge to Fate;?She rang down the curtain and shifted the scene;?Yet sometimes now, when the day grows late,?I can hear you calling for Little Queen;?For a happy home and a busy life?Can never wholly crowd out our past;?In the twilight pauses that come from strife,?You will think of me while life shall last.
And however sweet the voice of fame?May sing to me of a great world's praise,?I shall long sometimes for the old pet-name?That you gave to me in the dear, dead days;?And nothing the angel band can say,?When I reach the shores of the great Unseen,?Can please me so much as on that day?To hear your greeting of "Little Queen."
[Illustration: "THAT BLESSES BUT ONCE WITH ITS PERFECT BLISS"]
WHEREFORE?
Wherefore in dreams are sorrows borne anew,?A healed wound opened, or the past revived??Last night in my deep sleep I dreamed of you;?Again the old love woke in me, and thrived?On looks of fire, and kisses, and sweet words?Like silver waters purling in a stream,?Or like the amorous melodies of birds:
A dream--a dream!
Again upon the glory of the scene?There settled that dread shadow of the cross?That, when hearts love too well, falls in between;?That warns them of impending woe and loss.?Again I saw you drifting from my life,?As barques are rudely parted in a stream;?Again my heart was torn with awful strife:
A dream--a dream!
Again the deep night settled on me there,?Alone I groped, and heard strange waters roll,?Lost in that blackness of supreme despair?That comes but once to any living soul.?Alone, afraid, I called your name aloud--?Mine eyes, unveiled, beheld white stars agleam,?And lo! awake, I cried, "Thank God, thank God!
A dream--a dream!"
[Illustration:]
DELILAH.
In the midnight of darkness and terror,?When I would grope nearer to God,?With my back to a record of error?And the highway of sin I have trod,?There come to me shapes I would banish--?The shapes of the deeds I have done;?And I pray and I plead till they vanish--?All vanish and leave me, save one.
That one with a smile like the splendor?Of the sun in the middle-day skies--?That one with a spell that is tender--?That one with a dream in her eyes--?Cometh close, in her rare Southern beauty,?Her languor,