Victor Roy, A Masonic poem | Page 9

city's moving throng,
With
the wood-dove's sweetest song,
By the lonely river's marge,
O'er
him give Thy angels charge.
In his hours of gladsome mirth,
Round some warm and welcome
hearth,
In the halls of keen debate,
And the pomp and pride of state,

Cheer his spirit with love's beams

Lighten up his midnight dreams;

In his wanderings free and wild,
Father, keep him, as Thy child.
From the pestilential blight,
From the sun-beams scorching light,

From temptation's mighty power,
In some lone unguarded hour.


From the dangers that we know,
From the dark undreamt of foe,

From the death-splash of the wave,
Father, hear and help and save."
Then came the tidings brought by Robert's hand,
Victor lay buried in
a far off land;
Died, wafting my name up to Heaven in prayer,

Leaving his promised bride to Robert's care.
Oft it has puzzled me,
until my brain
Has racked itself from thinking into pain,
Why
Victor left me thus, for in the past
He surely loved not Robert,
perhaps at last
He saw things differently and thought it best
And
had his wishes writ, e're he could rest.
But oh, the agony of those past
hours;
It seems on looking back, that all my flowers
Looked
mournfully at me and drooped their heads,
And lay like dying
children in their beds;
And the bright birds in the vine-covered wall

Sang the sad chords of "The Dead March in Saul;"
And I was living,
but all else were dead,
The sunbeam shimmered sickly o'er my head,

As when a ray peers in a darkened room,
Where one beneath a pall
awaits his tomb.
Robert was ever near when Victor died,
And soon
he sought to win me for his bride;
He told me how he'd loved me
many years,
Loved him I loved, kindly he dried my tears,
Pictured
my desolate and lonely lot,
Urged me to go with him to some new
spot
Where all the past should be but as a dream,
And our lives
glide gently down life's stream.
I told him that my heart was far away,

Beneath the palm where Victor's body lay;
That nightly in my
dreams I heard the splash
Upon the shores where Ganges' waters dash.

I told him all my hope now was to stand
Amid the quiet of God's
summerland;
Beneath another palm tree's shade to be,
And list the
murmurs of the crystal sea.
But Robert loved me; I became his wife;

Could I forsee the sunken rocks of life?

And he was handsome then,
and kind, and bright;
Could I foretell eclipses? then the night.
Oh, I
have looked sometimes upon that face,
When robbed of every
lineament of grace,
And I have cried unto the heavens above,
"It
was not this, O God, I pledged to love;
Unsteady gait, wild brain and
selfish heart--"
Flashed the red lights of danger "till death part."


Tell me, soul-searching ray, if erst I strove
To cherish, feed and guard
where grew no love.
We sailed away to far Australia's shore,
Oh,
the long days passed near the ocean's roar.
For him on whom I leaned
in hope and trust,
Proved but coarse clay that crumbled soon to dust.

Drinking and gambling, sharks that swallow whole,
Homes, jewels,
money, reason, body, soul.
Alone, for weeks to hear none call my
name,
And happier alone; then baby came,
My firstborn, precious
boy, I lived for him
For months; then his bright eyes grew dim,
And
where the reeds and grass grew rank and wild,
We made a grave for
Willie, darling child.
Ah, well I ween the night we laid him there,
I
went to watch his grave; day had been fair,
But eve came up with
thunder's muttered growl,
And ever and anon the lightning's scowl

Flashed angrily upon me as I viewed
The breakers dashing on the sea
beach rude.
I grew passionate amid the whirlwind's sigh,
It had no
word of comfort, loud was its cry,
And deep, dark was the struggle of
my soul,
As I watched the billows onward roll.
There came no ray
of hope across my breast,
As I turned toward my place of wild unrest;

I looked in vain for calmness, up on high,
It was not God's time for
rainbows in the sky.
I went again next eve; there was no storm,
The
full moon lighted up each darkening form;
'Twas the glory of a
summer's bloom,
And I went onward to my baby's tomb.
I laid
fresh flowers above the cold in death,
I felt upon my cheek warm
zephyr's breath,
It seemed as if an angel had swept by
Across the
grass where I too longed to lie;
And I saw the glorious sweep of
moonbeams
Gilding the white rocks, circling all the streams
With
rays of glory; I knelt on the bank,
Watching the picture, till my lone
heart sank
Down to the depths; I could have slept to death,
My
wounds seemed to defy the balmy breath
Of nature to restore my
peace; my hands
I stretched out o'er the sea to northern lands,
I
moved so swiftly o'er the moon gilt foam,
I stood once more within
my father's home,
Could almost hear the village bells ring out,

Could almost hear the merry children's shout,
Could breathe the scent
of violet and rose,
Walked down the dells where the pale primrose

grows.
Ah, tell the truth, felt once again the bliss
Of