A^' ^^1 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. ®|ap Sniujrtgl^l f o. Shelf -j.a:ii.Wi 1516" UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. '\^&-^t'\-A'^-!T7.S-9'^^ -^y''" ,-7,'«SC"?^ THE WATER BROOK AND OTHER VERSES BY MARY BEAVAN // printeU for ^ribate distribution NEW YORK ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH AND CO. ■y^ Copyright, 1895, By Anson D. F, Randolph and Company. John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. This is the best of me ; for the rest I ate and drank and slept, loved and hated like another. My life was as the vapor ^ and is not; but this I saw a?id knew, — this, if anything of ttiine, is worth your memory. RUSKIN. What a thing friendship is, Wo?id without end I How it gives the heart and soul a stir up ; Gives your life's hour-glass a shake When the thin sand doubts Whether to run or stop short! The Flight of the Duchess. TO MY FRIENDS 3[ UeHicatc tbcse ^trap EI)j>mr6 of jFancp; K no-wing with Robert Broivning — "The gladlier lives my friend Because I love him still." i^o t\)ovi0)t tobicb etcr jstirrcb a buman breast ^boultJ be untOtD, — Paracelsus CONTENTS. PAGE Overflowings ii Lethe 13 Proteus 14 Conjecture 16 After the Baitle 17 April 19 Bugle Calls 20 To MY Dog 22 Love's Garden 23 The House of Love 24 Montecito 25 Endymion . , 26 Love's Completeness 27 Love's Gift 29 The Wood Fire 30 To Baby Mary 33 A Farewell 35 Song 36 Sunset at Atlantic City in Winter ....... 37 7 PAGE eschscholtzia 39 If Truth were Sweet 40 Alone 41 Love's Faithfulness 42 A Song 43 On a Picture called "A Suicide's Burial." — By C. \V. S 44 Soul Strength 46 A Song 47 At Night 48 Love's Vanity 49 Nonsense Verses 50 Roses and Verses 52 A Winter's Evening ,53 Mutability 55 Love the Conqueror 56 At Night 57 October by the Sea 58 A Farewell to Love 60 Love's Fickleness 61 THE WATER BROOK, OVERFLOWINGS. TN the heart of a forest olden, Its emerald depths among, Apart from the sunshine golden A water brook had sprung. Pent up, pressed down, yet spurning The weight of earth and stone. But ever still upward yearning, Its waters welled alone. At last with a mighty struggle The great rocks burst apart ; And, released from its weight of trouble, Out sprang that fountain's heart. Out o'er the green grass gushing. Cutting a channel deep, Down towards the river rushing O'er meadow and hill-side steep. Ever gayly a wild song singing Of freedom and joy at last, Its waves to the ocean bringing Still downward the torrent passed. From its banks where violets growing, Meet the gentian's perfect blue, Some drops of that fount's o'erflowing I bring, dear friends, to you. 12 A LETHE. H, to forget, forget! Lone Lethe's stream Floweth afar. Beneath its waters gleam Vain wishes and lost hopes. Amid its dark rocks glow Wild memories of bright days of long ago, False words and broken hearts. A tangled heap Of sweetness and unworthiness together sleep For aye beneath that river's silver wave. There would I hie me, in its waters lave This careworn, weary frame, and cast aside Life's heavy burden. In the rushing tide I 'd slip it from me, glad to bid it go, Fraught with its weight of misery and woe, Down to the river's bed. Thence would I rise, With freedom and forgetfulness my prize. 13 PROTEUS. My heart ! My heart in the morn is a bird, A bright lark soaring high. Afar is its gay song heard, And "Love" is its wild clear cry; Singing, soaring, love outpouring, In the bright morning My heart is a bird. My heart ! My heart at noontide -is a lute, The south wind stirs its strings. Though the lark's clear song be mute The self-same carol rings, Out from those soft chords straying, "Love, Love, Love," ever saying. In the day's noontide My heart is a lute. 14 My heart ! My heart in the night is a fay, She leaves my troubled breast, To wander through clouds away, Full of a vague unrest. And " Love " is ever her yearning cry, "If I find not love Idle!" In the sad midnight My heart is a fay. 15 CONJECTURE. QTARS of my lady's eyes, Brighter than those in the skies, What do those rays disclose, Stars of my lady's eyes? Rose of my lady's lip, Where I 'd sweet honey sip. What would that kiss disclose. Rose of my lady's lip? Hands of my lady dear. If mine own held them near. What would their clasp disclose. Hands of my lady dear? Heart in my lady's breast, Were thy deep thought confest. What would those thoughts disclose. Heart in my lady's breast? i6 AFTER THE BATTLE. SUGGESTED BY A RUSSIAN BROXZE. T3ACK from the battle-field, Selim, returning, Why bear so restlessly now on thy rein? Still for that field of strife eagerly burning, Neighing till echo resoundeth again. Abdallah answers thy summons no longer, Captive art thou without right or redress ; Thee the wild Cossack now governs, the stronger To rule and subdue, not to soothe and caress. Listlessly now his sharp sword he drieth, Stained with the blood he has ruthlessly shed; Lo, thy new master, when evening's breath sigheth, With bridle and spur towards his tent turns thy head. 17 Only this morning, Selim, proud Selim, . Fondly Abdallah, with trappings so fine Decked thee for battle, — now gone is thy glory, Bowed with sad sorrow that proud head of thine. Abdallah! Master! Fondly he loved thee, Next to fair Haidee held thee most dear. Called thee his "lightning-flash," tried thee and proved thee, Now yon vile Cossack leadeth thee here. Abdallah lieth cold in death's slumber, With hand still outstretched as though grasping thy rein : Never, Oh, Selim, o'er sands without number, A centaur of old, shall ye gallop again. Stretch not, Oh, Selim, thy head towards the dawning, Cease that shrill neighing proclaiming thy woe; He whom thou callest wakes not with the morning, On the lost battle-field lieth he low. i8 APRIL. AJOW fickle April cometh on apace, Eyes filled with tears, with smile upon her lips, She hovers o'er the mead with blithesome grace, Hope beaming bright upon her maiden face. And scatters flowers from daintiest finger tips. Joy and expectance all the brown earth fills, Whilst "Welcome " sing the tiny trickling rills, And "Welcome, sister," warble the blue birds. Now from their haunt beside the bounding brook The willows burst in "welcome." In each nook The pink arbutus from its sleep is stirred. I sing not "Welcome," — sorrow bows my head; Fair April's voice cannot awake my dead. 19 BUGLE CALLS. REVEILLE. A RISE, arise, blithe soul, '^ Bright glows the sun; Thy work 's before thee, See, the day 's begun. All nature smiles; smile thou, Perform life's task. Joy beckons onward, Rest will come at last MESS. The clouds hangs heavily, The day is long, Life's work drags wearily, Sad seems Joy's song. To plod' — to work — there seemeth nought beside, But rest may come when falls the even-tide. 20 TAPS, Out with the lights! Life's day has gone, Over the struggle, all the work is done. Peace ends the conflict, rest from toil and sins; Rest, through Death's night, — soon Heaven's day begins. TO MY DOG. A H, brown and steadfast eyes, on me ye look Clear as the waters of a mountain brook, True as the shining of the stars above, Ye speak sweet stories of a heart's deep love; Reflecting, as the mirror of a lake, The love I render and the love I take. Dear, tender, steadfast eyes ! 22 LOVE'S GARDEN. T OVE made himself a garden by the sea, Where blue waves ebbed and flowed melo- diously, Where tiny rills ran trickling down the strand, And brooding summer hovered o'er the land. Singing of pleasure near akin to pain, The fair birds loved, and sang, and loved again. The air o'erflowed with murmurs of sweet sound ; Tall rose trees with pink petals strewed the ground. Love cast him down upon a marble seat. Before him danced bright Joy with jocund feet, And Hope played on the pipes her music clear, While Mirth sang rapturously of things most dear; But dear Delight drew near, and, closely prest By clasping arms, sank on Love's pulsing breast. 23 THE HOUSE OF LOVE. \ WAY, away ! Thou comest here too late. Death, the last guest, has gone, — closed is the gate. The sky rains tears, and not a sound is heard Save booming of the waves and sob of bird. With crown of asphodel about his head. Shrouded, low on his bier. Love lieth dead. Slain, at his feet are his handmaidens dear, Silenced forever by the same dread fear. Fair, jocund Joy, stilled are thy dancing feet. And hushed thy music, Hope, so clear, so sweet; Whilst Mirth and dear Delight sleep hand in hand, — That last dread sleep that none may understand. Closed is the House of Love, and at its gate Sad Sorrow sits, and mourns disconsolate. 24 MONTECITO. TTERE under shadows of the live oak bough That shields from warmth of the December sun, I rest, midst blooming roses sweet and rare. And hear the echo of the sportsman's gun. The Eucalyptus stirs its drooping leaves, And pungent odors scent the ambient air, On curving mountain sides long shadows lie, Beauty and peace are round me everywhere. Low at my feet the broad Pacific stirs. Its banded kelp, gray-silvered 'neath the sun, Whilst Anna Kappa's^ velvet hills afar Wait, crowned with fire, till the day is done. So calm and peaceful, sure at last I find That Eden where my bruised heart longs to be; Alas, not so, beloved of my soul, All Edens become deserts without thee! 1 Anna Kappa is an island opposite Santa Barbara. 25 ENDYMION. T3EL0VED, how I long to be to thee As Cynthia to Endymion was of old; Who, bending down from the skies' azure sea, Came to her love, his dear head to enfold With tender clasping arms, and with a kiss Woke sense and soul to transports of sweet bliss. Sad mortal I, who nothing have to give Save love and life, content for thy dear sake Alone for aye with thoughts of thee to live; Alone to dream sweet dreams, but to awake Strong in love's power to suffer and endure. Endymion! Forget not in the years benign. When fame shall come and happier hours be thine, Sad Cynthia, whose love shone strong and pure. 26 LOVE'S COMPLETENESS. A H my love and my dearest love, How can I live without you? Even in dreams I see in your face The light that hovered about you, When you looked on me with your true eyes dear, And whispered such words of sweetness That my soul was filled, as you held me near. With the sense of love's completeness. Alone am I, but not lonely, dear, You have given so much to remember, — These thronging thoughts of the tenderest love That e'er brightened a life's December And Spring has returned to dwell with me, For I 've learnt beyond all proving That the truest joy of being loved Is the deeper bliss of loving! So go bravely forth to thy work, dear heart, My love shall still surround you. And I '11 pray to God that His tender care And blessing may be around you. And if fate might chance that never again Should our hearts feel the joy of meeting, Still, I know when you step on the further shore I shall give you your first love greeting. 28 LOVE'S GIFT. n^O me the earth seemed sad and drear, And dark life's skies did lower, When some one cast, low at my feet, A sweet mysterious flower. White all its petals are, and pure, Scarlet its heart of flame, Whilst some sure impulse of my soul Whispers the strange flower's name. Its subtle influence fills my life. Fair sunbeams guide my way, And Hope and Peace my comrades are. Love's flower is mine alway. 29 THE WOOD FIRE. " Is it not pleasing to remember," said my friend, " that this is the summer sunlight and heat, cherished in the wood- fibres many years, to burn for us this winter's evening?" T3Y the wood fire's ruddy light, My heart and I Lonely watched the fire sparks bright From the embers fly. "Think, dear heart," I softly cried, " For thee the lofty tree has died, For thee it grew. And garnering the sunshine and the dew, Long years ago, Now brings thee for an offering sweet. The summer's sun and heat Here in the winter's frost and snow. Thinkst thou that noble tree Its mission knew, 30 And as in forest wild and free It upward grew, Felt that in years to come, Far from its wild-wood home, 'T would render up again The happy sunshine, summer light and heat, And all that made its forest life complete, Long years ago, To bring dear thoughts of bright June days Out from its ember's rays, Here in the winter's chill and snow ? Ah, no. In that far forest old The tree, content. Lived through each summer's heat, each winter's cold, Filling with joy the heart of nature old. Who her sweet influence lent To urge its growth in its allotted space, Teaching the tree to wave with grace Its leaflets green ; Or bow in majesty its branches clad In winter's sheen. 31 But still it hoarded in its heart, Long years ago, The sunshine garnered in the summers gone. Nor dreamt its lot, to comfort hearts forlorn. Here in chill winter's snow. Then take this lesson home to thee. Sad heart, and rest. Living thy life that all may see Love fills thy breast; Cherish thou still its fervent glow To burn for friends in winter's snow, Content to fill a little space. Humbly, in thine allotted place. To comfort, soothe, caress Some weary sorrowing breast. So, as the years pass by. Thou 'It be remembered with a loving sigh; And dear friends whisper, though 'T was long ago, * She brought us summer in our winter's snow ! ' 32 TO BABY MARY. IT HNSOME Mary, blithesome fairy, Blossom of the May, Eyes of brown doe, poised on tiptoe, Wilt thou say me " Nay " ? You cannot miss surely one kiss, And — I love thee so ! Red lips pouting, laughter shouting, Still thou criest "No." Dimpling, smiling, imp beguiling, . Grant me one caress ! Nearer stealing, — Ah, what feeling In that gentle " Yes " ! Ah sweet baby, some day, maybe, Lover pleading so. Not consenting, half relenting, Wilt thou tell him "No"? 33 Baby darling, bright-eyed starling, Loveliest rosebud mine. Home love is the truest, sweetest, Of all love it is completest. Guard it, whilst 't is thine. 34 A FAREWELL. Beloved, Bear with me a little space; Life's cup grows turbid, and death comes apace, I know not which I dread most, No, not I ! Beloved, Once thou lovedst me passing well ; Losing that love has made of life a hell, Death knoweth not a deeper. So say I ! Beloved, Grant to me this simple boon; Love flies at morn, — forget it, ere 't is noon, Remembrance is so bitter, So think I ! List to the clanging of Love's passing bell, And echo answers back, " Farewell, farewell ! " 35 SONG. T OVE, is it a curse or a boon? Do we know ? Can we tell ? O'erflowing with joy, brimming over with sorrow Joy for the nonce, pain for the morrow. Comes it at morn ? It goeth at noon : Loving is well; to love not is better; At morning a garland, at sunset a fetter. Gay love is a pleasure When lovers are meeting, Then dance we a measure. Bright smiles each sweeting. Swift flies all joy, fadeth all laughter, Pain follows fast, sorrow comes after; Meeting is pleasure, bitter is parting; Sighs rend our breast, salt tears are starting. Love, is it a curse or a boon ? Who can tell.^ Joy flieth fast, sorrow comes soon, — Is it well ? 36 SUNSET AT ATLANTIC CITY IN WINTER. THE REAL AND THE SEEMING. TTIGH on the shore the wild winds of winter Dance o'er the sands in an eddying whirl; Hither and thither like flashings of jewels In glittering spray the white watercaps curl. Which is the ocean.? Which is the land.? Where are the clouds and which is the sea.? Is this the earth where I seem to stand, Or the haven of rest where I fain would be? Curious clouds through the skyland flying, Banners of scarlet float wide and fly free. Islands of purple gleam in gold sun rays, — Do the waves meet the sky.? Or the sky kiss the sea? White and gray sea-gulls call with wild clamor, White-winged ships sail far out to the sea; 37 What is the real and what is but seeming, Heart, sad heart, canst thou tell unto me? All of thy life is a vain endeavor, Weary and restless, storm-tossed as the sea, Joy passes by thee like clouds at sun-setting. Only reflecting its brightness in thee. Gray falls life's evening, — cease from thy dreaming. Faint not and fail not, gather to thee All sweet peace and calmness, while the world wonders Which is the heaven and which is the sea. 38 ESCHSCHOLTZIA. THE YELLOW POPPY OF CALIFORNIA. " Wherever men are noble they love bright color ; and wherever they can live healthily, bright color is given them in sky, sea, flowers, and living creatures." — Rusklv, " On Poppies." /^^ AY flowers that greet me with such cheery looks, Embodied sunshine of this western land, Ye teach fair lessons that are not in books, And scatter round ye with a lavish hand The brightness and the sunlight of the skies. Sad heart, retain this memory of the flower, And give out sunshine still from day to day. Let thy high aspirations upward tower, To gather light for friends upon life's way, So that from earth towards heaven our thoughts shall rise ! 39 IF TRUTH WERE SWEET. T IKE roses bright, if truth were sweet, How many true words could we say, From dawn until the close of day, If truth were sweet. But truth is oft-times hard and cold, The rose's sweet life dies away. And nought is left but earth's gray mould Man's vows like roses die alway. Life's pleasures never are complete, Yet joy could come like dawn of day If truth were sweet. 40 ALONE. "\ /TY feet are laved by the flowing tide As alone I sit by the sad sea-side, Whilst the waves grow gray as the sun sinks down, And gold gilds the roof of the old sea town. And I — am alone. The rose-leaf flush from the clouds has fled, Gray gulls flit fast, and overhead One pale star shineth alone in the sky, One lone ship sails for the harbor nigh, And I — am alone. Alone, to long for my dear ones dead, Alone, to dream of the fair years fled, Of the love that is not, that never can be. And my heart moans low with the moaning sea. For I — am alone. 4r LOVE'S FAITHFULNESS TAEAR one, when I am dead and thou art pressing Earth's cool green sods over still breast and brow, Although I silent seem to all caressing Believe me that I love thee then as now. For what is death? 'T is but a swift transition, And souls flit fast to fairer worlds unknown; But still I feel, as though told in a vision. Sometime and somewhere thou shalt claim thine own. Believe and trust. Though for long weary ages Apart we wander, far beyond love's ken, Thou yet shalt read upon my soul's white pages, " Dearest, I love thee now as I did then ! " 42 A SONG. Farewell ! For no longer to us are belonging Love's joy or love's pain, So before bitter scorning Follows fast in love's train — Farewell ! Farewell. Mouth to mouth let us press For a moment, — no longer; One last sweet caress As our sorrow grows stronger, Now, farewell ! 43 ON A PICTURE CALLED "A SUICIDE'S BURIAL."— By C W. S. TJASTENING over the steep hillside With a shovel and pick and a curse beside Come the dark-robed monks, while overhead Flares the torch to light them bury their dead. Redly it glimmers, but not so red As the life blood his own hand has shed. Mark how they hurry him over the hill, Hating and loathing, cursing him still. Whose crime the greater, canst thou tell.^ Theirs, who have made his life a hell, Or his, who plunged in aching breast The helpful dagger, and so found rest ? Freed from "the fever of living " at last. Hating and loving and longing all past, Safe forever from law's stern power. Now in the silent twilight hour, 44 Secure from man and from Fortune's frown, 'Neath the young moon's light, lay him down. Out from the dungeon's bolts and bars Into the tender light of the stars. As the low moon breaks through clouds o'erhead Weep for the living and not for the dead. On our ancient mother's quiet breast, Leave him, at rest. 45 SOUL STRENGTH. SUGGESTED BY THE FLIGHT OF BIRDS AMIDST THE SPRAY OF NIAGARA. VT'E tiny birds ! Amidst the encircling spray How keen your sense of power, your strength of wing ! High above waves of green and mists of gray Ever ye mount the clouds and blithely sing, Above the rush and thunder of Niagara's might. So have I seen from out the whirl of life Some brave soul rise and upward cleave its way Above the tumult of the world's wild strife. With longings deep for Heaven's serenest day, Secure of self, and conscious of the right. 46 A SONG. Smile, My fond lover and bless me, With thy dark eyes caress me, Now that love claims its own From my soul sorrow has flown, Smile. Laugh, My beloved, and kiss me, Joy and its pleasures did miss me, Now love hath come to its own And laughter and love are one, Laugh. Sigh, My soul's lover and love me; Transient as clouds above me Is love, and the tears will start ; Gather me close io thy heart, Sigh. 47 AT NIGHT. \ BROODING stillness on the midnight air, A brighter glimmer in the stars o'erhead, And in my heart a consciousness that tells A life hath sped. A sudden waving of the bending boughs, A quickened rustle of the leaves on high, And deep within my breast my heart has felt A soul pass by. 48 LOVE'S VANITY. T WOULD I were a fairy elf, And you had bid me come To dwell within your inmost heart, And hold it for my own. An altar I would raise to thee And there sweet incense burn, Fair birds should carol in thy praise And thy dear name should learn. Dear heart! I 'd mirror-line thy walls, So, though a foolish elf, Where'er I'd turn my eager gaze, I still should fmd, — myself! 49 NONSENSE VERSES. TO BERTHA AND GEORGE. (Sung to the air of " Little Brown Jug.") /^NE two three, four and five Little honey-bees in a beehive, Some flew in and some flew out, What in the world were they all about ? Gathering honey all the day, Busy, busy bees, no time for play; One flew up to find the sky And never came back, he flew so high! Four little honey-bees left in the hive Wept, lest their brother was not alive. So another one started to hunt the moon And bring the truant back quite soon. 50 One two three, four and five, Only three honey-bees left in the hive ; One got married to a bumble-bee And made his home in an old oak-tree. Oh, dear me, now what will they do ? Once there were five and now there are two ! And one fell down in a lily's cup, Lost his way and never came up. One two three, four and five, One sad honey-bee left in the hive; In a pool of honey he was drowned alone, And the hive was taken by a lazy drone. SI ROSES AND VERSES. TO W. W. T^ OSES and verses ! They both came together, Sparkling and bright as the sunshiny weather; Rich was their perfume, subtle their meaning, Which was the real and which but the seeming? Life is a jest, your bright verses show it; Roses soon fade, of course we all know it; Truth is a rock, as wisdom discloses; Which die most quickly, men's vows or their roses? 52, A WINTER'S EVENING. 'T^HANKS, dear friends, for lovely flowers, Bringing dreams of balmier hours, Telling of the summer time, Breathing fragrance rich and fine ; Sure they come from sunnier lands Bearing in their roseate hands Messages of love from you, Friends and sisters, wise and true. Charming roses here are seen, Roses of all flowers the queen; Creamy Sofrano so fair, Katherine Mermet, grand and rare, Dainty, blushing Bon Silene, Smilax, with its leaves of green; Sweet Narcissus scents the room With its subtle sweet perfume; And with eyes half closed I dream 53 That " things are not what they seem." Now in the dim fire-Hghted room Palm-trees wave, magnolias bloom, Fire-flies gleam, the bird's sweet song Lures me on my path along; Round me plays the southern breeze, Fair fruits fall from fair tall trees. In my low chair slowly turning, Lo ! I find the wood-fire burning. Winter's here, but your sweet flowers Brought me dreams of summer bowers, Could I dull or cheerless be With such fair gifts to comfort me? 54 MUTABILITY. 13 OSES of red and white, Fairest in summer's land, Plucked by a generous hand, Sent by a witty wight, Roses of red and white. Roses that bloom, Bright in their sweetness rare. Filling the summer air With faint perfume, Roses that bloom. Roses that fade, Short-lived as vows of men ; Swift flies their sweetness. Then Die they in autumn's shade, Roses that fade. 55 LOVE THE CONQUEROR. /~\H, love is sweet, although it lives not long; And bitter, love, its bitterness is strong ! Ah bitter-sweet ! I love yet loathe the taste, Yet drain the cup, no drop must run to waste. Passion of love, tender and strong thy mien, I wrestle 'gainst thee ; from thy arms I lean, Yet strive in vain. As weaker grows my hold A willing captive do those arms enfold. Love, mighty Conqueror! My heart is thine, A blood-red jewel taken from its shrine, Faulty and marred in value, — yet thine own, Place it amidst the spoils, around thy throne. 56 AT NIGHT. A RESTLESS stir within the crowded nest, A low uneasy cry ; The mother folds her pinions closer still, Quiet her nestlings lie. A rush, a whirr of sweeping wings, The owl's triumphant cry; Harried by talons fierce a mother dies ; The murderer wings by. 57 OCTOBER BY THE SEA. 1\ /TONTH of remembrance, thine hour has come, The full fruition of the summer fled; The crisp grass rustles underneath my feet, Ripe apples fall from gnarled boughs overhead. A slumbrous calm hangs brooding o'er the shore, The scarlet alder shines, rose berries glow. The bay-berry's low bush like wine is red. And over all the westering moon hangs low. Out from the woods I pass, across the downs, Following the way that leads me to the shore, Toward rude rocks, seamed and scarred with winter's frost, Whose feet the sea pours sad caresses o'er. 58 Low calls the plover, and the quail's quick cry Sounds through the marshes and the wood-paths lone, Whilst now, remindful of their other years. Slow trail the wild-geese towards the southern zone. The golden-rod's gay glory turns to brown, Faded the asters of September days. And over sand-dune, marshes, and the sea October spreads her veil of purple haze. Prone on the rocks I rest, and watch the ships Freighted no more with hope or peace for me; And muse o'er dead years gone, and dread the fate That comes, relentless as thy waves, O Sea ! 59 A FAREWELL TO LOVE. \ ND now for aye I breathe a last farewell ; Far goest thou from me, torch of mystic fire, While darkness comes to cover what is left, Gray ash and cinders, — nought of bright desire Left, save remembrance. Of all hope bereft Aside I wait, burdened with longings vain That some bright gleams of glory yet were mine. Distant and farther still I watch thee shine. Not, not for me the pleasure steeped in pain Thou givest thy wild worshippers. Ne'er, ne'er again Shall these sad eyes behold thee. So, a dying star Still faintly glimmers, till all rays grow dim; Its sun burns out, death comes, and from afar Love trembles into space 'neath the horizon's rimo 60 LOVE'S FICKLENESS. I^T 7HEN Love comes into the heart, fair lass, He takes up all the room. And sorrow and doubt are both cast out, And banished are grief and gloom. The sun shines bright, and around our feet Fair flowers exhale their fragrance sweet. When Love comes into the heart. When Love goeth out from the heart, alas, He leaveth a dreary space. Where entereth pain, for never again Cometh Love to the self-same place. For Cupid is ever a restless boy. And hard to please, tho' arch and coy. So, Love goeth out from the heart. 6i V >>/--7n^^.^ W'W^^ ^ mj'i ^^ ^w 'r^.wJ ^f^MUt-^