Songs of Two | Page 4

Arthur Sherburne Hardy
on
the bleak
And frozen bosom of our snows
They dared to smile, on
yours who knows
But that they might not dare to speak!
IMMORTALITY
My window is the open sky,
The flower in farthest wood is mine;
I

am the heir to all gone by,
The eldest son of all the line.
And when the robbers Time and Death
Athwart my path conspiring
stand,
I cheat them with a clod, a breath,
And pass the sword from
hand to hand!
J. E. B.
Not all the pageant of the setting sun
Should yield the tired eyes of
man delight,
No sweet beguiling power had stars at night
To soothe
his fainting heart when day is done,
Nor any secret voice of benison

Might nature own, were not each sound and sight
The sign and
symbol of the infinite,
The prophecy of things not yet begun.
So
had these lips, so early sealed with sleep,
No fruitful word, life no
power to move
Our deeper reverence, did we not see
How more
than all he said, he was,--how, deep
Below this broken life, he ever
wove
The finer substance of a life to be.
BY A GRAVE
Oft have I stood within the carven door
Of some cathedral at the
close of the day,
And seen its softened splendors fade away
From
lucent pane and tessellated floor,
As if a parting guest who comes no
more,--
Till over all silence and blackness lay,
Then rose sweet
murmurings of them that pray,
And shone the altar lamps unseen
before,
So, Dear, as here I stand with thee alone,
The voices of the
world sound faint and far,
The glare and glory of the moon grow dim,

And in the stillness, what I had not known,
I know,--a light, pure
shining as a star,
A song, uprising like a holy hymn.
DUALITY
Within me are two souls that pity each
The other for the ends they
seek, yet smile
Forgiveness, as two friends that love the while
The
folly against which each feigns to preach.
And while one barters in the market-place,
Or drains the cup before

the tavern fire,
The other, winged with a divine desire,
searches the
solitary wastes of space.
And if o'ercome with pleasure this one sleeps,
The other steals away
to lay its ear
Upon some lip just cold, perchance to hear
Those
wondrous secrets which it knows--and keeps!
LULLABY
O Mary, Mother, if the day we trod
In converse sweet the lily-fields
of God,
From earth afar arose a cry of pain,
Would we not weep
again?
(Sings) Hush, hush, O baby mine,
Mothers twain are surely
thine,
One of earth and One divine.
O Mary, Mother, if the day the air
Was sweet with songs celestial,
came a prayer
From earth afar and mingled with the strain,
Would
we not pray again?
(Sings) Sleep, sleep, my baby dear,
Mothers
twain are surely near,
One to pray and one to hear.
O Mary, Mother, if, as yesternight
A bird sought shelter at my
casement light,
A wounded soul should flutter to thy breast,

Wouldst thou refuse it rest?
(Sings) Sleep, darling, peacefully,
Mary,
Mother, comforts me;
Christ, her son, hath died for thee.
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Songs of Two, by Arthur
Sherburne Hardy
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