Puslapio vaizdai
PDF
„ePub“

And still the sweet, half-solemn look

Where some past thought was clinging,

As when one shuts a serious book
To hear the thrushes singing.

I kneel to you! Of those you were
Whose kind old hearts grow mellow,-
Whose fair old faces grow more fair
As Point and Flanders yellow;

Whom some old store of garnered grief,
Their placid temples shading,
Crowns like a wreath of autumn leaf
With tender tints of fading.

Peace to your soul! You died unwedDespite this loving letter.

And what of John? The less that's said Of John, I think, the better.

The Sundial.

'Tis an old dial, dark with many a stain;

In summer crowned with drifting orchard bloom,
Tricked in the autumn with the yellow rain,
And white in winter like a marble tomb;

And round about its gray, time-eaten brow
Lean letters speak--a worn and shattered row;
I am a Shade: a Shadowe too arte thon :

I marke the Time: saye, Gossip, dost thou soe?

Here would the ring-doves linger, head to head;
And here the snail a silver course would run,
Beating old Time; and here the peacock spread
His gold-green glory, shutting out the sun.

The tardy shade moved forward to the noon;
Betwixt the paths a dainty Beauty stept,
That swung a flower, and, smiling, hummed a tune,—
Before whose feet a barking spaniel leapt.

O'er her blue dress an endless blossom strayed;
About her tendril-curls the sunlight shone;

And round her train the tiger-lilies swayed,
Like courtiers bowing till the queen be gone.

She leaned upon the slab a little while,

Then drew a jewelled pencil from her zone, Scribbled a something with a frolic smile, Folded, inscribed, and niched it in the stone.

The shade slipped on, no swifter than the snail;
There came a second lady to the place,

Dove-eyed, dove-robed, and something wan and pale--
An inner beauty shining from her face.

She, as if listless with a lonely love,

Straying among the alleys with a book,Herrick or Herbert,-watched the circling dove, And spied the tiny letter in the nook.

Then, like to one who confirmation found

Of some dread secret half accounted true,Who knew what hands and hearts the letter bound, And argued loving commerce 'twixt the two,—

She bent her fair young forehead on the stone; The dark shade gloomed an instant on her head; And 'twixt her taper fingers pearled and shone The single tear that tear-worn eyes will shed.

1

The shade slipped onward to the falling gloom;
There came a soldier gallant in her stead,
Swinging a beaver with a swaling plume,

A ribboned love-lock rippling from his head;

Blue-eyed, frank-faced, with clear and open brow,
Scar-seamed a little, as the women love;
So kindly fronted that you marvel how

The frequent sword-hilt had so frayed his glove;
Who switched at Psyche plunging in the sun;
Uncrowned three lilies with a backward swinge;
And standing somewhat widely, like to one
More used to "boot and saddle" than to cringe

As courtiers do, but gentleman withal,

Took out the note; held it as one who feared The fragile thing he held would slip and fall; Read and re-read, pulling his tawny beard;

Kissed it, I think, and hid it in his breast;
Laughed softly in a flattered happy way,
Arranged the broidered baldrick on his chest,
And sauntered past, singing a roundelay.

The shade crept forward through the dying glow;
There came no more nor dame nor cavalier;
But for a little time the brass will show
A small gray spot-the record of a tear.

A Madrigal.

BEFORE me, careless lying,

Young Love his ware comes crying;
Full soon the elf untreasures

His pack of pains and pleasures,-
With roguish eye,

He bids me buy

From out his pack of treasures.

His wallet's stuffed with blisses,
With true-love-knots and kisses,
With rings and rosy fetters,
And sugared vows and letters;—
He holds them out

With boyish flout,

And bids me try the fetters.

"Nay, child," I cry, "I know them;

There's little need to show them!

Too well for new believing

I know their past deceiving,-
I am too old,"

I say, "and cold,

To-day, for new believing!"

But still the wanton presses,
With honey-sweet caresses,

« AnkstesnisTęsti »