The Cornflower, and Other Poems Part 29

Speak subtly with your warm, sweet-scented breath Till, 'mid the dance and music of the hour, She turn you love-filled eyes and glowing face, With: "Ah, ye grew in that old trysting place!"

ESTRANGED.

"It is good-bye," she said; "the world is wide, There's s.p.a.ce for you and me to walk apart.

Though we have walked together side by side, My thoughts all yours, my resting-place your heart, We now will go our different ways. Forget The happy past. I would not have you keep One thought of me. Ah, yes, my eyes are wet; My love is great, my grief must needs be deep.

"Yet I have strength to look at you, and say: Forget it all, forget our souls were stirred, Forget the sweetness of each dear, dead day, The warm, impa.s.sioned kiss, the tender word, The clinging handclasp, and the love-filled eyes-- Forget all these; but, when we walk apart Remember this, though wilful and unwise, No word of mine did ever hurt your heart."

THE PARTING.

One summer's morning I heard a lark Singing to heaven, a sweet-throated bird; One winter's night I was glad in the dark Because of the wondrous song I had heard.

The joy of life, I have heard you say, Is my love, my laughter, my smiles and tears; When I have gone on the long, strange way, Let these stay with you through all the years--

These be the lark's song. What is love worth That cannot crowd, in the time that's given To two like us on this gray old earth, Such bliss as will last till we reach heaven?

Dear one, think oft of the full, glad years, And, thinking of them, forget to weep.

Whisper: "Remembrance holds no tears!"

And kiss my mouth when I fall on sleep.

MARGARET.

Her eyes--upon a summer's day G.o.d's skies are not more blue than they.

Her hair--you've seen a sunbeam bold Made up of just such threads of gold.

Her cheek--the leaf which nearest grows The dewy heart of June's red rose.

Her mouth--full lipped, and subtly sweet As briar drowned in summer heat.

Her heart--December's chill and snow-- Heaven pity me, who love her so!

ST. VALENTINE.

The girl's a slender thing and fair, With dimpled cheek and eyes as.h.i.+ne; The youth is tall, with bashful air.

Heigho! a fond and foolish pair-- The day is yours, St. Valentine.

He says: "My heart will constant prove, Since every beat of it is thine; The sweetest joy of life is love."

The birds are mating in the grove-- The day is yours, St. Valentine.

What matter that the wind blows chill Through leafless tree and naked vine, That snowdrifts linger on the hill, When warm love makes the pulses thrill?

The day is yours, St. Valentine.

TWO JUNE NIGHTS.

A red rose in my lady's hair, A white rose in her fingers, A wild bird singing low, somewhere, A song that pulses, lingers.

The sound of dancing and of mirth, The fiddle's merry chiming, A smell of earth, of fresh, warm earth, And honeysuckle climbing; My lady near, yet far away-- Ah, lonely June of yesterday!

A big white night of velvet sky, And Milky Way a-gleaming, The fragrant blue smoke drifting by From camp-fire brightly beaming; The stillness of the Northland far-- G.o.d's solitudes of splendor-- My road a trail, my chart a star.

Wind, 'mong the balsams slender, Sing low: O glad June of to-day, My lady's near, though far away!

REMEMBRANCE.

"Once they were lovers," says the world, "with young hearts all aglow; They have forgotten," says the world, "forgotten long ago."

Between ourselves--just whisper it--the old world does not know.

They walk their lone, divided ways, but ever with them goes Remembrance, the subtle breath of love's sweet th.o.r.n.y rose.

THE EMIGRANT LADDIE.

Though long, long leagues of land and sea Stretch out between Braemar and me, I'll win home late or soon, Will take the old familiar way Past Isla Glen, up bold Glenshee, By sun-kissed hill and valley gray-- These feet of mine will find their way At midnight or at noon.

The hearth-fire, and the cot of stone Set 'mong the fir trees tall and lone, I'll see before my eyes; Hear rough winds kiss the heath-clad hill, The murmur gay of loch and rill, The mavis singing sweet and shrill, Hear, warm and soft as notes that thrill The souls in paradise.

A voice all tremulous and glad Cries out: "A welcome home, my lad!"

LOVE'S SERVICE.