Riley Love-Lyrics | Page 7

a wild cascade, her hair
Floods neck and shoulder, arm and
wrist,
Till only through a gleaming mist
I seem to see a siren there,

With lips of love and melody
And open arms and heaving breast


Wherein I fling myself to rest,
The while my heart cries hopelessly

For my fair bride that is to be...
Nay, foolish heart and blinded eyes!
My bride hath need of no
disguise.--
But, rather, let her come to me
In such a form as bent
above
My pillow when in infancy
I knew not anything but love.--

O let her come from out the lands
Of Womanhood--not fairy isles,--

And let her come with Woman's hands
And Woman's eyes of tears
and smiles,--
With Woman's hopefulness and grace
Of patience
lighting up her face:
And let her diadem be wrought
Of kindly deed
and prayerful thought,
That ever over all distress
May beam the
light of cheerfulness.--
And let her feet be brave to fare
The
labyrinths of doubt and care,
That, following, my own may find

The path to Heaven God designed.--
O let her come like this to me--

My bride--my bride that is to be.
HOW IT HAPPENED
I got to thinkin' of her--both her parents dead and gone-- And all her
sisters married off, and none but her and John A-livin' all alone there in
that lonesome sort o' way,
And him a blame' old bachelor,
confirm'der ev'ry day!
I'd knowed 'em all from childern, and their
daddy from the time He settled in the neighberhood, and hadn't airy a
dime
Er dollar, when he married, fer to start housekeepin' on!-- So I
got to thinkin' of her--both her parents dead and gone!
I got to thinkin' of her; and a-wundern what she done
That all her
sisters kep' a-gittin' married, one by one, And her without no
chances--and the best girl of the pack-- An old maid, with her hands,
you might say, tied behind her back! And Mother, too, afore she died,
she ust to jes' take on, When none of 'em was left, you know, but
Evaline and John, And jes' declare to goodness 'at the young men must
be bline To not see what a wife they'd git if they got Evaline!
I got to thinkin' of her; in my great affliction she
Was sich a comfert

to us, and so kind and neighberly,-- She'd come, and leave her
housework, fer to he'p out little Jane, And talk of _her own_ mother 'at
she'd never see again-- Maybe sometimes cry together--though, fer the
most part she Would have the child so riconciled and happy-like 'at we
Felt lonesomer 'n ever when she'd put her bonnet on
And say she'd
railly haf to be a-gittin' back to John!
[Illustration]
I got to thinkin' of her, as I say,--and more and more
I'd think of her
dependence, and the burdens 'at she bore,-- Her parents both a-bein'
dead, and all her sisters gone And married off, and her a-livin' there
alone with John-- You might say jes' a-toilin' and a-slavin' out her life
Fer a man 'at hadn't pride enough to git hisse'f a wife-- 'Less some one
married _Evaline_ and packed her off some day!-- So I got to thinkin'
of her--and it happened that-away.
[Illustration]
WHEN MY DREAMS COME TRUE
I
When my dreams come true--when my dreams come true--
Shall I
lean from out my casement, in the starlight and the dew,
[Illustration]
To listen--smile and listen to the tinkle of the strings Of the sweet
guitar my lover's fingers fondle, as he sings? And the nude moon
slowly, slowly shoulders into view,
Shall I vanish from his
vision--when my dreams come true?
When my dreams come true--shall the simple gown I wear
Be
changed to softest satin, and my maiden-braided hair Be raveled into
flossy mists of rarest, fairest gold,
To be minted into kisses, more
than any heart can hold?-- Or "the summer of my tresses" shall my

lover liken to
"The fervor of his passion"--when my dreams come
true?
II
When my dreams come true--I shall bide among the sheaves Of happy
harvest meadows; and the grasses and the leaves Shall lift and lean
between me and the splendor of the sun, Till the moon swoons into
twilight, and the gleaners' work is done-- Save that yet an arm shall
bind me, even as the reapers do The meanest sheaf of harvest--when
my dreams come true.
When my dreams come true! when my dreams come true!
True love
in all simplicity is fresh and pure as dew;
The blossom in the blackest
mold is kindlier to the eye Than any lily born of pride that looms
against the sky: And so it is I know my heart will gladly welcome you,

My lowliest of lovers, when my dreams come true.
[Illustration]
NOTHIN' TO SAY
Nothin' to say, my daughter! Nothin' at all to say!
Gyrls that's in love,
I've noticed, ginerly has their way! Yer mother did afore you, when her
folks objected to me-- Yit here