Riley Love-Lyrics | Page 3

moth!--Along my wavering flight toward fame
The winds drive
backward, and my wings are lame
And broken, bruised and tired!
I hardly know the path from those old times;
I know at first it was a
smoother one
Than this that hurries past me now, and climbs
So
high, its far cliffs even hide the sun
And shroud in gloom my journey
scarce begun.
I could not do quite all the world required--
I could
not do quite all I should have done,
And in my eagerness I have
outrun
My strength--and I am tired....
Just tired! But when of old I had the stay
Of mother-hands, O very
sweet indeed
It was to dream that all the weary way
I should but
follow where I now must lead--
For long ago they left me in my need,

And, groping on alone, I tripped and mired
Among rank grasses
where the serpents breed
In knotted coils about the feet of speed.--

There first it was I tired.

And yet I staggered on, and bore my load
Right gallantly: The sun, in
summer-time,
In lazy belts came slipping down the road
To woo
me on, with many a glimmering rhyme
Rained from the golden rim
of some fair clime,
That, hovering beyond the clouds, inspired
My
failing heart with fancies so sublime
I half forgot my path of dust and
grime,
Though I was growing tired.
And there were many voices cheering me:
I listened to sweet praises
where the wind
Went laughing o'er my shoulders gleefully
And
scattering my love-songs far behind;--
Until, at last, I thought the
world so kind--
So rich in all my yearning soul desired--
So
generous--so loyally inclined,
I grew to love and trust it.... I was
blind--
Yea, blind as I was tired!
[Illustration]
And yet one hand held me in creature-touch:
And O, how fair it was,
how true and strong,
How it did hold my heart up like a crutch,
Till,
in my dreams, I joyed to walk along
The toilsome way, contented
with a song--
'Twas all of earthly things I had acquired,
And 'twas
enough, I feigned, or right or wrong,
Since, binding me to man--a
mortal thong--
It stayed me, growing tired....
Yea, I had e'en resigned me to the strait
Of earthly rulership--had
bowed my head
Acceptant of the master-mind--the great
One
lover--lord of all,--the perfected
Kiss-comrade of my soul;--had
stammering said
My prayers to him;--all--all that he desired
I
rendered sacredly as we were wed.--
Nay--nay!--'twas but a myth I
worshippéd.--
And--God of love!--how tired!
For, O my friends, to lose the latest grasp--
To feel the last hope
slipping from its hold--
To feel the one fond hand within your clasp

Fall slack, and loosen with a touch so cold
Its pressure may not
warm you as of old

Before the light of love had thus expired--
To know your tears are
worthless, though they rolled
Their torrents out in molten drops of
gold.--
God's pity! I am tired!
And I must rest.--Yet do not say "She _died_,"
In speaking of me,
sleeping here alone.
I kiss the grassy grave I sink beside,
And close
mine eyes in slumber all mine own:
Hereafter I shall neither sob nor
moan
Nor murmur one complaint;--all I desired,
And failed in life
to find, will now be known--
So let me dream. Good night! And on
the stone
Say simply: She was tired.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE PASSING OF A HEART
O touch me with your hands--
For pity's sake!
My brow throbs ever on with such an ache
As only
your cool touch may take away;
And so, I pray
You, touch me with your hands!
Touch--touch me with your hands.--
Smooth back the hair
You once caressed, and kissed, and called so
fair
That I did dream its gold would wear alway,
And lo, to-day--
O touch me with your hands!
Just touch me with your hands,
And let them press
My weary eyelids with the old caress,
And lull
me till I sleep. Then go your way,
That Death may say:
He touched her with his hands.

[Illustration]
[Illustration]
"DREAM"
Because her eyes were far too deep
And holy for a laugh to leap

Across the brink where sorrow tried
To drown within the amber tide;

Because the looks, whose ripples kissed
The trembling lids through
tender mist,
Were dazzled with a radiant gleam--
Because of this I
call her "Dream."
Because the roses growing wild
About her features when she smiled

Were ever dewed with tears that fell
With tenderness ineffable;

Because her lips might spill a kiss
That, dripping in a world like this,

Would tincture death's myrrh-bitter stream
To sweetness--so I
called her "Dream."
Because I could not understand
The magic touches of a hand
That
seemed, beneath her strange control,
To smooth the plumage of the
soul
And calm it, till, with folded wings,
It half forgot its flutterings,

And, nestled in her palm, did seem
To trill a song that called her
"Dream."
Because I saw her, in a sleep
As dark and desolate and deep
And
fleeting as the taunting night
That flings a vision of delight
To some
lorn martyr as he lies
In slumber ere the day he dies--
Because she
vanished like a gleam
Of glory, do I call her "Dream."
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
HE CALLED HER IN

I
He called her in from