The Dreamers | Page 7

think of mine--mine, your fondest lover.
SHADE
The kindliest thing God ever made,?His hand of very healing laid?Upon a fevered world, is shade.
His glorious company of trees?Throw out their mantles, and on these?The dust-stained wanderer finds ease.
Green temples, closed against the beat?Of noontime's blinding glare and heat,?Open to any pilgrim's feet.
The white road blisters in the sun;?Now, half the weary journey done,?Enter and rest, Oh weary one!
And feel the dew of dawn still wet?Beneath thy feet, and so forget?The burning highway's ache and fret.
This is God's hospitality,?And whoso rests beneath a tree?Hath cause to thank Him gratefully.
THE VAGABOND
The little dream she had forgot?Oh, long and long ago,?Came back across the April fields?And touched her garment so?(As might a wind-blown primrose cling?And one scarce guess or know.)
A little beggared outcast dream?Forgot of Love and men,?And all because a fiddler played?An old song in the glen,?And two Young Lovers hand in hand,?Sent back its tune again.
The little dream she had forgot?Crept near and clung and stayed--?A roving, ragged vagabond?Half daring, half afraid,?And all because young love went by?And one old fiddler played.
DISTANCE
A hundred miles between us?Could never part us more?Than that one step you took from me?What time my need was sore.
A hundred years between us?Might hold us less apart?Than that one dragging moment?Wherein I knew your heart.
Now what farewell is needed?To all I held most dear,?So far and far you are from me?I doubt if you could hear.
THE GYPSYING
I wish we might go gypsying one day the while we're young-- On a blue October morning?Beneath a cloudless sky,?When all the world's a vibrant harp?The winds o' God have strung,?And gay as tossing torches the maples light us by;?The rising sun before us--a golden bubble swung--?I wish we might go gypsying one day the while we're young.
I wish we might go gypsying one day before we're old--?To step it with the wild west wind?And sing the while we go,?Through far forgotten orchards?Hung with jewels red and gold;?Through cool and fragrant forests where never sun may show, To stand upon a high hill and watch the mist unfold--?I wish we might go gypsying one day before we're old.
I wish we might go gypsying, dear lad, the while we care-- The while we've heart for hazarding,?The while we've will to sing,?The while we've wit to hear the call?And youth and mirth to spare,?Before a day may find us too sad for gypsying,?Before a day may find us too dull to dream and dare--?I wish we might go gypsying, dear lad, the while we care.
GOOD-BYE, PIERRETTE
Good-bye, Pierrette. The new moon waits?Like some shy maiden at the gates?Of rose and pearl, to watch us stand?This little moment, hand in hand--?Nor one red rose its watch abates.
The low wind through your garden prates?Of one this twilight desolates.?Ah, was it this your roses planned??Good-bye, Pierrette.
Oh, merriest of little mates,?No sadder lover hesitates?Beneath this moon in any land;?Nor any roses, watchful, bland,?Look on a sadder jest of Fate's.?Good-bye, Pierrette.
THE AWAKENING
When the white dawn comes?I shall kneel to welcome it;?The dread that darkened on my eyes?Shall vanish and be gone.?I shall look upon it?As the parched on fountains,?_Yet it was the blinding night_?_That taught the joy of dawn._
When the first bird sings,?Oh, I shall hear rejoicing,?And all my life shall thrill to it?And all my heart draw near.?I shall lean to listen?Lest a note elude me,?_Yet it was the fearsome night_?_That taught me how to hear._
When the sun comes up?I shall lift my arms to it;?The fear of fear shall fall from me?As shackles from a slave.?I shall run to hail it,?Free and unbewildered,?_Yet it was the silent night_?_That taught me to be brave._
THE WEDDING GOWN
She put her wedding-gown away?As tenderly as one might close,?With kissing lips and finger-tips,?The petals of a rose?Still held for the Belov��d's sake--?The loveliest that blows.
She put her wedding-gown away--?The quiet place was all astir?With vague perfume that filled the room,?Cedar and lavender,?Yet sweeter still about it clung?The fragrant thoughts of her.
She put her wedding-gown away--?Yet lingered where its whiteness gleamed?As one above a sleeping Love,?Oh, thus it was she seemed,?Reluctant still to turn and go?And leave him as he dreamed.
THE DISCIPLES
A great king made a feast for Love,?And golden was the board and gold?The hundred, wondrous gauds thereof;?Soft lights like roses fell above?Rare dishes exquisite and fine;?In jeweled goblets shone the wine--?A great king made a feast for Love.
_Yet Love as gladly and full-fed hath fared_?_Upon a broken crust that two have shared;_?_And from scant wine as glorious dreams drawn up_?_Seeing two lovers kissed above the cup._
A great king made for Love's delight?A temple wonderful wherein?Served jeweled priest and acolyte;?There fell no darkness day or night?Since there his highest altar shone?With flaming gems as some white sun,?A temple made for Love's delight.
_Yet Love hath found a temple as complete_?_In some bare attic where two lovers meet;_?_And