Poems by Marietta Holley Part 12

Last night she came unto me, And kneeling by my side, Laid her head upon my bosom, My beautiful, my bride; My lost one, with her soft dark eyes, And waves of sunny hair.

I smoothed the shining tresses, With tearful, fond caresses, And words of thankful prayer.

And then a thrill of doubt and pain, My jealous heart swept o'er; We were parted--she was dwelling Upon a far-off sh.o.r.e; Yet He who made my sad heart, knew I loved her more and more; My love more true and perfect grew, As each dark day pa.s.sed o'er; But she whose heart had been my own, Who loved me tenderly, Whose last low words I knelt to hear, Were, "How can I leave thee?"

And "Death would seem as sweet as life, Could we together be."

Now, though we two were parted By such a distance wide, By such a strange and viewless realm, By such a boundless tide, Her gentle face was radiant With a surpa.s.sing bliss; She was happier in that distant land, Than she ever was in this.

And in some other tenderness, Some other love divine, She had found a peace and happiness, She never found in mine.

So with a tender chiding, I could not quite suppress, Though well my darling knew I would not make her pleasures less.

"Are you happy, love?" I said, "Are you happy, love, without me?"

Then she raised her gentle head, And twined her arms about me; Yet while my tears fell faster, Beneath her mute caress, Her face had all the glory Of a sainted soul at rest; And her voice was sweet as music, "I am happy--I am blest."

"Do you know how lonely-hearted I have been each weary day, Praying that each pa.s.sing hour Would bear my life away, That we might be united Upon that distant sh.o.r.e?"

"Laurence, we are not parted, I am with your evermore."

"I cannot see you, darling, Your face I cannot see."

"Can you see the moon's white fingers, That leads the pleading sea?

Can you see the fragrance lingering Where summer roses be?

The soft winds tender clasping, The close-enwrapping air Enfolding you--Oh, Laurence, I am with you everywhere."

Then while her face grew brighter As with a heavenly glow, In tenderness unspeakable, She kissed my lips and brow; Then I lost her--then she left me, As at the set of day The snowy clouds float outward, And melt in light away.

I heard low strains of melody No earthly choir could sing, A light breath floated past me, As from a gliding wing; And on my darkened spirit There fell so bright a gleam, I knew the blessed vision Was not in truth a dream; Though death had won from my embrace, My beautiful, my bride, I had won a richer treasure, An angel by my side.

The Father careth for us all In pity, and I know My love is not forever gone From him who loved her so; When a few more days have drifted Their shadows over me, When the golden gates are lifted, My angel I shall see; Her veiled face in its glory Upon my gaze will rise, And Heaven will shine upon me Through the sweetness of her eyes.

GRIEF.

What though the Eden morns were sweet with song Pa.s.sing all sweetness that our thought can reach; Crushing its flowers noon's chariot moved along In brightness far transcending mortal speech; Yet in the twilight shades did G.o.d appear, Oh welcome shadows so that He draw near.

Prosperity is flushed with Papal ease And grants indulgences to pride of word, Robing our soul in pomp and vanities, Ah! no fit dwelling for our gentle Lord; Grief rends those draperies of pride and sin, And so our Lord will deign to enter in.

Then carefully we curb each thought of wrong, We walk more softly, with more reverent feet-- As in His presence chamber, hush our tongue, And in the holy quiet, solemn, sweet, We feel His smile, we hear His voice so low, So we can bless Him that He gave us woe.

What cares the sailor in the sheltered cove For the past peril of the stormy sea; Dear from grief's storm the haven of His love, And so He bringeth us where we would be; We trust in Him, we lean upon His breast, Who shall make trouble when He giveth rest?

WILD OATS.

Oh gay young husbandmen would you be sure of a crop Upspringing rankly, an abundant and bountiful yield?

Go forth in the morning, and sow on your life's broad field This pleasantly odorous seed, then smooth the ground on top, Or leave it rough, with the utmost undeceit, Never you fear, it will thriftily thrive and grow, Loading the harvest plain beneath your feet, With the ripened sheaves of shame, remorse, and woe.

You have but to sow the seed, no care will it want, For he who soweth tares while the husbandman sleeps Taketh unwearied pains, a vigilant guard he keeps Tirelessly watching, and tending each evil plant.

These are his pleasure gardens, leased to him through time Where he walketh to and fro, chanting a demon song; Tending with ghastly fingers, the scarlet buds of wrong, And drinking greedily in the sweet perfume of crime.

And of all the seeds, the one that thriftiest thrives Is the color of ruby wine, when it flashes high-- Who would think the tiny seed so fair to the eye Could cast such a deadly shade over countless lives, And branch out into murder in one springing shoot; Thrifty branches of sin, bristling with thorns of woe Shadowing graves where broken hearts lie low, And minds that were G.o.d-like lowered beneath the brute.

AUTUMN.

How the sumac banners bent, dripping as if with blood, What a mournful presence brooded upon the slumbrous air; A mocking-bird screamed noisily in the depth of the silent wood, And in my heart was crying the raven of despair, Thrilling my being through with its bitter, bitter cry-- "It were better to die, it were better to die."

For she, my love, my fate, she sat by my side On a fallen oak, her cheek all flushed with a bashful shame, Telling me what her innocent heart had hid-- "For was not I her brother, her dear brother, all but in name."

I listened to her low words, but turned my face away-- Away from her eyes' soft light, and the mocking light of the day.

"He was n.o.ble and proud," she said, "and had chosen her from all The haughty ladies, and great; she didn't deserve her lot."

I knew her peer could never be found in palace or hall, And my white face told my thought, but she saw it not.

She was crushing some scarlet leaves in her dainty fingers of snow, Her maiden joy crowning her face with a radiant glow.

"She had wanted me to know," and then a smile and a blush; Her smile was always just like a baby's smile, and the red Came to her cheek at a word or a glance--then there fell a hush.

She was waiting some word from me, I knew, so I said, "May Heaven bless you both"--words spoken full quietly, And she, G.o.d bless her, never knew how much they cost to me.

How the sumac banners bent, dripping as if with blood, What a mournful presence brooded upon the slumbrous air; A mocking-bird screamed noisily in the depths of the silent wood, And in my heart was crying the raven of despair, Thrilling my being through with its desolate, desolate cry-- "It were better to die, it were better to die."

The white dawn follows the darkness; out of the years' decay Shineth the golden fire that gildeth the autumn with light; From another's sin and loss, cometh this good to me, By another's fall am I raised to this blissful height.

"Let me be humble," said my heart, as from her sweet lips fell, "Let a prayer for him arise, with the sound of our marriage bell."

THE FAIREST LAND.

'Twas a bleak dull moor that stretched before The low stone porch of the cottage door, And standing there was youth and maid, He for long journeying seemed arrayed, And the sunset flamed in the burnished west, And a proud throb beat in the young man's breast, As he whispered, "Sweet, will you come to me In that fairer land beyond the sea?"

"The wonderful western land; in dreams I have seen its prairies green, and gleams Of its shining waterfalls, valleys fair, And a voice in my dreams has called me there Where man is a man, and not a clod, And must bend the knee to none but G.o.d.

A home will I make for thee and me In that fairer land beyond the sea."

"But the cruel seas where the fated ships Go down to their doom"--But he kissed the lips-- The trembling lips, till they smiled again, And his bright hopes cheered her heart's dull pain, And she laid her head on his hopeful breast, And looked with him to the glowing west, And said, "I will come, I will come to thee To that fairer land beyond the seas."

And the crimson light changed to daffodil-- To ashen gray, but they stood there still, And high o'er the west shone the evening star As still he pictured that home afar-- "The peace and the bliss our own at last When this dreary parting all is past, When my heart's dear love, you come to me In that fairer land beyond the sea."

So he sailed; but saddest 'tis alway Not for those who go, but for those who stay; And her sweet eyes gathered a shadow dim As days went by with no news of him, And weeks and months, but at last it came, As the gray moor shone with the sunset flame Her quick eyes glanced the strange lines o'er, Then she fell like dead on the cottage floor.

'Twas a stranded ship on a rocky coast, One true heart brave, when hope was lost, How he toiled till all the sh.o.r.e had gained, And only a baby form remained On ship, how he breasted the surging tide With Death a-wrestling side by side, How he lifted the child to its mother's knee, As a great wave washed him out to sea.

And for days the maid in the cottage door Sat and looked o'er the dreary moor, Her cheeks grew white 'neath her blinding tears, And the sunset rays seemed cruel spears That pierced her heart; and ashen gray Turned the earth and sky, the night, the day; But at last a star shone high above-- The tender star of the heavenly love.

For as her life ebbed day by day, The High Countrie, the Fair alway, Rose 'fore her eyes, the safe, sweet home, And she seemed to hear, "Love, will you come?"

And so one eve when a bridge of gold Seemed spanning the last sea dim and cold, She went to him, for aye to be In the fairest land beyond the sea.