Songs of Two | Page 3

poor it seemed for any guest?To tarry there a night,--until he came,?Asking, not entertainment, only rest.
Our hands were empty,-his and mine alike,?He says--until they joined. I see?The gifts he brought; but where were mine?That he should say "I too have need of thee?"
Without the threshold of his heart I wait?Abashed, afraid to enter where?So radiant a company do meet,?Yet enter boldly, knowing I am there.?Whether his hand shall press my latch to-night,?To-morrow, matters not. He came?Unsummoned, he will come again; and I,?Though dead, shall answer to my name.
And yet, dear friend, in whom I rest content,?Speak to me now--lest when we meet?Where tears and hunger have no grace,?A little word of friendship be less sweet.
ON NE BADINE PAS AVEC LA MORT
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The dew was full of sun that morn?_(Oh I heard the doves in the ladyricks coop!)_?As he crossed the meadows beyond the corn,?Watching his falcon in the blue.?How could he hear my song so far,--?The song of the blood where the pulses are!?Straight through the fields he came to me,?_(Oh I saw his soul as I saw the dew!)_?But I hid my joy that he might not see,?I hid it deep within my breast,?As the starling hides in the maize her nest.
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Back through the corn he turned again,?_(Oh little he cared where his falcon flew!)_?And my heart lay still in the hand of pain,?As in winter's hand the rivers do.?How could he hear its secret cry,?The cry of the dove when the cummers die!?Thrice in the maize he turned to me,?_(Oh I saw his soul as I saw the dew!)_?But I hid my pain that he might not see--?I hid it deep as the grave is made,?Where the heart that can ache no more is laid.
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Last night, where grows the river grass,?_(Oh the stream was dark though the moon was new!)_?I saw white Death with my lover pass,?Side by side as the troopers so.?"Give me," said Death, "thy purse well-filled,?And thy mantle-clasp which the moonbeams gild;?Save the heart which beats for thy dear sake,"?_(Oh I saw my heart as I saw the dew!)_?"All life hath given is Death's to take."?Dear God! how can I love thy day?If thou takest the heart that loves away!
ITER SUPREMUM
Oh, what a night for a soul to go!?The wind a hawk, and the fields in snow;?No screening cover of leaves in the wood,?Nor a star abroad the way to show.
Do they part in peace, soul with its clay??Tenant and landlord, what do they say??Was it sigh of sorrow or of release?I heard just now as the face turned gray?
What if, aghast on the shoreless main?Of Eternity, it sought again?The shelter and rest of the Isle of Time,?And knocked at the door of its house of pain!
On the tavern hearth the embers glow,?The laugh is deep and the flagons low;?But without, the wind and the trackless sky,?And night at the gates where a soul would go!
ON THE FLY-LEAF OF THE RUBAIYAT
Deem not this book a creed, 't is but the cry?Of one who fears not death, yet would not die;?Who at the table feigns with sorry jest.?To love the wine the Master's hand has pressed,?The while he loves the absent Master best,--?The bitter cry of Love for love's reply!
IN AN ALBUM
Like the south-flying swallow the summer has flown,?Like a fast-falling star, from unknown to unknown?Life flashes and falters and fails from our sight,--?Good-night, friends, good-night.
Like home-coming swallows that seek the old eaves,?Like the buds that wait patient beneath the dead leaves,?Love shall sleep in our hearts till our hands meet again, Till then, friends, till then!
WITH APRIL ARBUTUS, TO A FRIEND
Fairer than we the woods of May,?Yet sweeter blossoms do not grow?Than these we send you from our snow,?Cramped are their stems by winter's cold,?And stained their leaves with last year's mould;?For these are flowers which fought their way?Through ice and cold in sun and air,?With all a soul might do and dare,?Hope, that outlives a world's decay,?Enduring faith that will not die,?And love that gives, not knowing why,?Therefore we send them unto you;?And if they are not all your due,?Once they have looked into your face?Your graciousness will give them place.?You know they were not born to bloom?Like roses in a crowded room;?For though courageous they are shy,?Loving but one sweet hand and eye.?Ah, should you take them to the rest,?The warmth, the shelter of your breast,?Since 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