Poems of Passion Part 2

Yet, when from the frowning east a sudden gust Of adverse fate is blown, or sad rains fall, Day in, day out, against its yielding wall, Lo! the fair structure crumbles to the dust.

Love, to endure life's sorrow and earth's woe, Needs friendship's solid mason-work below.

REUNITED.

Let us begin, dear love, where we left off; Tie up the broken threads of that old dream, And go on happy as before, and seem Lovers again, though all the world may scoff.

Let us forget the graves which lie between Our parting and our meeting, and the tears That rusted out the gold-work of the years, The frosts that fell upon our gardens green.

Let us forget the cold, malicious Fate Who made our loving hearts her idle toys, And once more revel in the old sweet joys Of happy love. Nay, it is not too late!

Forget the deep-ploughed furrows in my brow; Forget the silver gleaming in my hair; Look only in my eyes! Oh! darling, there The old love shone no warmer then than now.

Down in the tender deeps of thy dear eyes I find the lost sweet memory of my youth, Bright with the holy radiance of thy truth, And hallowed with the blue of summer skies.

Tie up the broken threads and let us go, Like reunited lovers, hand in hand, Back, and yet onward, to the sunny land Of our To Be, which was our Long Ago.

WHAT SHALL WE DO?

Here now forevermore our lives must part.

My path leads there, and yours another way.

What shall we do with this fond love, dear heart?

It grows a heavier burden day by day.

Hide it? In all earth's caverns, void and vast, There is not room enough to hide it, dear; Not even the mighty storehouse of the past Could cover it from our own eyes, I fear.

Drown it? Why, were the contents of each ocean Merged into one great sea, too shallow then Would be its waters to sink this emotion So deep it could not rise to life again.

Burn it? In all the furnace flames below, It would not in a thousand years expire.

Nay! it would thrive, exult, expand, and grow, For from its very birth it fed on fire.

Starve it? Yes, yes, that is the only way.

Give it no food, of glance, or word, or sigh; No memories, even, of any bygone day; No crumbs of vain regrets--so let it die.

"THE BEAUTIFUL BLUE DANUBE."

They drift down the hall together; He smiles in her lifted eyes; Like waves of that mighty river, The strains of the "Danube" rise.

They float on its rhythmic measure Like leaves on a summer-stream; And here, in this scene of pleasure, I bury my sweet, dead dream.

Through the cloud of her dusky tresses, Like a star, shines out her face, And the form his strong arm presses Is sylph like in its grace.

As a leaf on the bounding river Is lost in the seething sea, I know that forever and ever My dream is lost to me.

And still the viols are playing That grand old wordless rhyme; And still those two ate swaying In perfect tune and time.

If the great ba.s.soons that mutter, If the clarinets that blow, Were given a voice to utter The secret things they know,

Would the lists of the slam who slumber On the Danube's battle-plains The unknown hosts outnumber Who die 'neath the "Danube's" strains?

Those fall where cannons rattle, 'Mid the rain of shot and sh.e.l.l; But these, in a fiercer battle, Find death in the music's swell.

With the river's roar of pa.s.sion Is blended the dying groan; But here, in the halls of fashion, Hearts break, and make no moan.

And the music, swelling and sweeping, Like the river, knows it all; But none are counting or keeping The lists of these who fall.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THEY DRIFT DOWN THE HALL TOGETHER"]

ANSWERED.

Good-bye--yes, I am going.

Sudden? Well, you are right; But a startling truth came home to me With sudden force last night.

What is it? Shall I tell you?

Nay, that is why I go.

I am running away from the battlefield Turning my back on the foe.

Riddles? You think me cruel!

Have you not been most kind?

Why, when you question me like that, What answer can I find?

You fear you failed to amuse me, Your husband's friend and guest, Whom he bade you entertain and please-- Well, you have done your best.

Then why am I going?

A friend of mine abroad, Whose theories I have been acting upon, Has proven himself a fraud.

You have heard me quote from Plato A thousand times no doubt; Well, I have discovered he did not know What he was talking about.

You think I am speaking strangely?

You cannot understand?

Well, let me look down into your eyes, And let me take your hand.

I am running away from danger; I am flying before I fall; I am going because with heart and soul I love you--that is all.

There, now you are white with anger; I knew it would be so.

You should not question a man too close When he tells you he must go.

[Ill.u.s.tration:]

THROUGH THE VALLEY.

[AFTER JAMES THOMSON.]

As I came through the Valley of Despair, As I came through the valley, on my sight, More awful than the darkness of the night, Shone glimpses of a Past that had been fair, And memories of eyes that used to smile, And wafts of perfume from a vanished isle, As I came through the valley.

As I came through the valley I could see, As I came through the valley, fair and far, As drowning men look up and see a star, The fading sh.o.r.e of my lost Used-to-be; And like an arrow in my heart I heard The last sad notes of Hope's expiring bird, As I came through the valley.