Love or Fame; and Other Poems Part 13

Two dark-brown eyes looked into mine Two eyes with restless quiver; A gentle hand crept in my own Beside the gleaming river.

"Ah, sweet," I murmured, pa.s.sing sad, You will forget me ever?"

The dear, brown eyes their answer gave; "I will forget you NEVER."

Up in the leaves above our heads The winds were softly dying; Down in the river at our feet The lilies pale were lying.

The winds their mournful murmur sent: You will forget me ever?

The lilies raised their drooping heads: We will forget you never.

A spell hung o'er the numbered hours That chained each thought and feeling; My heart was filled with idle dreams That sent my sense reeling.

Once more I murmured, "Well, I know You will forget me ever;"

Yet still the same dear promise came, "I will forget you NEVER."

Ah, vain the words that we must speak, Though we are still believing; And subtle are the webs of fate That love is ever weaving; The dark brown eyes meet mine no more, I am forgotten ever; And mocking memory echoes now, I will forget you NEVER.

Beside the idle stream I stand, Where flowers droop and s.h.i.+ver And cold and dark it seems to me This dreary, restless river; For, sweet, your eyes are lost to me, I am forgotten ever; And only MEMORY echoes now, "I will forget you NEVER."

The Mississippi.

Where is the bard, O river grand and old, That has thy praises sung, thy beauties told, In measures lofty as the mighty pride That lingers in thy deep and flowing tide?

And where the echoing measures low and sweet That should thine own faint rippling songs repeat?

The eyes of nature ever turned on thee Watch o'er thy restless wandering to the sea; The rosy morn awakes thee from thy sleep; Along thy dusky waves her glances creep, And o'er the weird dark shadows of the night She spreads her sunny robes of morning light.

The yellow noon comes too, with fiery eyes, And all unwept the dewy morning dies; Thy waters run in waves of rippling gold, And all the rivers sacred deemed of old Are not so grand as thee, nor yet so fair.

Amid the mists that fill the evening air The sun droops low his golden head and dies, Yet in thy depths his last glance ling'ring lies and lights it with a royal purple glow; Anon into a splendor falling low Of crimson stains and gleams of molten gold It changes, like great waves of fire rolled Across the sky.

The moon caresses thee With rays of silver light as to the sea Thy dark waves glide; and shadows long and wide Reflect grim images within thy tide.

Pale stars that wander through the trackless skies All night, glance in thy depths with glowing eyes, And like a stream of silver flecked with gold Thy waters run.

O river, proud and old, From snow-bound sh.o.r.es thy dark waves loosened run To mingle with the waters of the sun; And lo! from North and South, from East and West, Companions come to aid thee in thy quest.

Along thy sh.o.r.es great cities stately stand, Sprung up beneath thy kindly welcoming hand; Proud commerce lives upon thy sweeping tide And palaces upon thy bosom glide.

O Mississippi, monarch of the West, What daring hand can quell thy proud unrest?

What human pen can paint thee as thou art, The loved, the pride of every free-born heart?

Thou symbol of a nation strong and free, Whose throne is on the land and on the sea!

What power is thine, what might is unto thee!

Though men shall die, thy waters still will be.

The Prince Imperial.

Under the cross in the Southern skies, Where the beautiful night like a shadow lies, A fair young life went out in the light To wake no more in the star-crowned night.

Beautiful visions of life were his, Visions of triumph and fame; Longing for glory that he might be Worthy to wear his name.

Brave was his heart as he sailed away Under the Northern sky; Leaving behind him all that he loved-- Stilling his heart's wild cry.

Proudly his mother, with royal pride, Stifled her last regret; Steeling her heart--but her dream was in vain For the star of his race was set.

Surely the moon as he slept at night Whispered his doom on high; Surely the waves in their rocky beds Mourned as he pa.s.sed them by.

For never again in the dusky night Would the prince go sailing by; Weaving his dreams with a boyish pride Under the shadowy sky.

Silent and cold in the morn he lay, Slain by a ruthless hand!

Never to wake with his fearless eyes-- Never again to command.

Imperial mother--too well we know The speechless depths of her awful woe; For the bright young life into Eternity hurled Was her only like to a sad, dark world.

But mothers kneel in the silent night To whisper a prayer to the Throne of Light, For the beautiful woman whose head lies low, Crushed 'neath the weight of its crown of woe.

From sun to shadow her life has swayed Like some wild rose in a mountain glade; But the storms have won, and the blossom lies Forever broken--no more to rise.

On the Lake.

There's a beautiful lake where the sun lies low, And the skies are warm with their summer glow; And a beautiful picture there I see Where the winds are warm and the waves are free, And the waves lie still in the sun As the flowers at night, when the day is done.

You may sing of your silvery seas by night When the moon looks down with a dreamy light; And the stars s.h.i.+ne out in the skies above Like the warm sweet gaze of the eyes of love; But the glow on the lake to-day Is a glory that never will fade away.

The beautiful lake is a sea of gold And the beauty it wears will never grow old; The trees bend down in the sun's warm glow Till their branches meet in the waves below, And the clouds in the far-off skies Are mirrored anew where the sunlight lies.

I love to float where the shadows lie 'Neath the matchless glow of the summer sky; And I love to dream that these waves of light Will never fade in the gloomy night: But I know that the things I love Are as far from my reach as the clouds above.

Oh, the beautiful lake is a sea of gold And the beauty it wears will never grow old; The cloudlets of Heaven are mirrored there In a golden splendor so bright and fair That the soul is dazzled for aye By the beautiful light of this summer's day.

Oh, I love to dream when this life is o'er We shall moor our boats near the golden sh.o.r.e; And our sorrows shall drift from us far away As the leaves that float in their idle play, And the waves shall smile in the sun When the night is over and life is done.