Yesterdays | Page 9

my room with laughter,
To think sleep had revived a thing so dead.
Thank God, that only in the realms of fancy
Can that old sorrow wake again to strife.?No fate is strong enough--no necromancy--
To make it stir one pulse of my calm life.
My heart is light, my lot is blest without you,
Our early sorrows are not what they seem,?Now in my slumber, if I dream about you
I wake to laugh at such an idle dream.
CIRCUMSTANCE
Talk not to me of souls that do conceive
Sublime ideals, but, deterred by Fate?And bound by circumstances, sit desolate,?And long for heights they never can achieve.
It is not so. That which we most desire,
With UNDERSTANDING, we at last obtain,?In part or whole. I hold there is no rain,?No deluge, that can quench a heavenly fire.
Show me thy labour, I straightway will name
The nature of thy thoughts. Who bends the bow,?And lets the arrow from the strained string go,?Strikes somewhere near the object of his aim.
We build our ships from timbers of the brain;
With products of the soul we load the hold;?Where lies the blame if they bring back no gold,?Or if they spring a leak upon the main?
There is no Fate, no Providence, no Chance,
The will is all. So be it thou art pure,?And strong of purpose, thy success is sure;?But fools and sluggards prate of circumstance.
SIMPLE CREEDS
If this were our creed it were creed enough
To keep us thoughtful and make us brave;?On this sad journey o'er pathways rough
That lead us steadily on to the grave.
Speak no evil, and cause no ache,?Utter no jest that can pain awake;?Guard your actions and bridle your tongue,?Words are adders when hearts are stung.
If this were our aim, it were all, in sooth,
That any soul needs, to climb to heaven,?And we would not cumber the way of truth
With dreary dogmas, or rites priest given.
Help whoever, whenever you can,?Man for ever needs aid from man.?Let never a day die in the West,?That you have not comforted some sad heart.
Were this our belief we need not brood
O'er intricate isms and modes of faith--?For this embodies the highest goal
For the life we are living, or after death.
We meet no trials we do not need;?Well borne sorrow is holy seed;?It shall rise in a harvest of golden grain,?And a wise soul ever thanks God for pain.
THE BRIDAL EVE
I stand in the blaze of the candle rays,
While my merry maidens three?Arrange each tress, and loop my dress,
And render me fair to see.?But oh! for the eyes that never again
Will smile like the stars on me.
I sweep down the stair, a bride most fair,
And some one takes my hand.?I am numb and cold, but the lie is told,
I smile and my lord is bland.?But oh! for a sight of my rover wild,
Who wanders abroad in the land.
I am queen of the ball and the festal hall;
I have beauty and youth and gold,?Men bow at the shrine of this lord of mine--
Lord of his sums untold.?But oh! to be off in the wilds to-night
With my lover brave and bold.
I dream a dream while the candles gleam,
While the dancers merrily glide.?Neath the evening star I am speeding far,
Oh! a good steed do I ride;?And my heart beats high with hope and cheer,
For my love is at my side.
We ride and sing, and the echoes ring
With our voices blithe and free,?We have no wealth but our love and health,
And our cot on the wide green lea;?But I love my love with a mighty love,
And I know that he loves me.
We ride away in the dying day,
We ride till we reach the spot?Where all alone in the wilds unknown
We find our lonely cot.?And I have no wish in the whole wide world,
And I know that my love has not.
With a dreary moan the viols groan,
And the dancers pause for breath,?And my lord says, 'Dear, you are ill, I fear,
You are paler than your wreath.'?O God! O God! to be out in the night,
Riding with love or death.
GOOD NIGHT
The day is at its golden height,
No shadow falls on sea or land;?And yet to thee I say Good night,
As we stand here hand clasped in hand,
Good night--Good night.
The laughing waves are summer blue,
The bees hum in the sun's warm light;?But frosts of winter chill me through,
I shiver as I say Good night.
Good night--Good night.
How often at the close of day
With smiling lips we've said those words:?And listened as we turned away
To hear them echoed by the birds,
Good night--Good night.
We did not dream then of this hour,
This sad, sad hour for you and me;?We did not dream there was a power
Could force us for eternity
To say Good night.
Good night--nay, turn your eyes away;
I cannot bear their tender light.?Now evermore to golden day,
To golden hope, a last Good night,
Good night--Good night.
NO PLACE
When days grow long, and brain and hands grow weary,
And hot the city street,?Forth to