Love or Fame; and Other Poems Part 14

Beyond.

Beyond yon dim old mountain's shadowy height, The restless sun droops low his grand old face; While downward sweeps the trembling veil of night, To hide the earth; the frost king's filmy lace Rests on the mountain's h.o.a.ry snow-crowned head, And adds to it a softened grace; the light Which dies afar in faint and fading red In purple shadows circles near.

The flight Of birds across the vast and silent plains Awakes the echoes of the sleeping earth; Of all the summer beauty naught remains, There come no tidings of the spring's glad birth.

Beyond the valley and far-off height The birds in wandering do take their way; Ah, whither is their strange and trackless flight Amid the dying embers of the day; Into the clouds that seek to veil the sun They seem to float on strange bright wings of fire; Beyond the shades that tell us day is done They soar on spirit wings that never tire.

Ah, strange, strange mysteries indeed are these; To watch the sunlight fade and die away, To hear the whispering of the dark pine trees, To see the deepening shadows 'round us play, And then to feel that all that 'round us lies Is e'en beyond the knowledge of the soul.

We seek to grasp the truth, it quickly flies And leaves us full of doubt.

Around us roll The spheres that light the way to heaven's sh.o.r.e, And soon their lights will brighten all the sky; And yet we dare not read their mystic lore But only stand and wait and wonder why, Beyond, beyond in deep mysterious s.p.a.ce They wander through the darkness all the night, Each one within its own allotted place.

The stars' dim course, the birds' lone dreamy flight, Will ever fill our souls with doubt and fear.

We walk upon life's unknown shadowy sh.o.r.e With wandering steps, while through the heavens clear The stars their music sing forevermore.

A Sonnet.

Sweet summer queen, with trailing robe of green, What spell has thou to bind the heart to thee?

Thy throne is built upon the sun-lit sea, Where break the waves in clouds of silver sheen And oft at dawn like some resplendent queen, Thou sittest on the hills in majesty; And all the flowers wake at thy decree.

But now farewell to all thy joys serene; The autumn comes with swift-winged, silent flight, And he will woo thee with his fiery breath; In crimson robes and hues of flas.h.i.+ng gold He'll clothe thee, and thy beauty in the night Will take a richer glow. But wintry death Will come and wrap thee in his fold.

Under the Sea.

Under the sea, the great wide sea That sweeps the golden sh.o.r.e; What treasures lie beneath the waves Forevermore!

Ask of the winds, the sobbing winds That toss the waves on high; And fling the burden of their song Unto the sky.

Ask of the stars, the jeweled stars That sleep within the tide; Like golden lilies floating far, And swinging wide.

Ask of the clouds that drift at noon In fadeless seas of blue, And looking down see skies beneath Of deeper hue.

Up in the sky, the golden clouds Will never make reply; Deep in the sea, the jeweled stars In silence lie.

Under the sea, the great wide sea That sweeps the golden sh.o.r.e, Are secrets hidden from us now And evermore.

The Old Year and the New.

Low at my feet there lies to-night A crushed and withered rose; Within its heart of fading red No crimson fire glows; For o'er its leaves the frost of death Steals like an icy breath; And soon 't will vanish from my sight, A thing of gloom and death.

Ah! beauteous flower, once thou wert My pleasure and my pride; And now when thou art old and worn I will not turn aside; But gently o'er thy faded leaves I'll shed one kindly tear; That thou wilt know, though dead and gone, To memory thou art dear.

Before my gaze there lies to-night A rose-bud fresh and fair; And like the breath of dewy morn Its fragrance scents the air.

This fragile flower I fain would pluck With hand most kind yet bold; And watch its petals day by day Their s.h.i.+ning wealth unfold.

And soon 'twill be my very own To keep forevermore: This flower that bloomed for me alone Upon a heavenly sh.o.r.e.

G.o.d grant my hands may guard it well And keep it pure and fair; For angel hands have gathered it And placed it in my care.

Then fare thee well, thou dying year, Thou art my withered rose; And on the stem where once thou wert, Another flower grows; Yet fear thee not, when thou are dead, To thee I'll still be true; And 'mid the joys of other years I still will think of you.

Easter.

Let all the flowers wake to life; Let all the songsters sing; Let everything that lives on earth Become a joyous thing.

Wake up, thou pansy, purple-eyed, And greet the dewy spring; Swell out, ye buds, and o'er the earth Thy sweetest fragrance fling.

Why dost thou sleep, sweet violet?

The earth has need of thee; Wake up and catch the melody That sounds from sea to sea.

Ye stars, that dwell in noonday skies, s.h.i.+ne on, though all unseen; The great White Throne lies just beyond, The stars are all between.

Ring out, ye bells, sweet Easter bells, And ring the glory in; Ring out the sorrow, born of earth-- Ring out the stains of sin.

O banners wide, that sweep the sky, Unfurl ye to the sun; And gently wave about the graves Of those whose lives are done.