Poems by John Hay - LightNovelsOnl.com
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In life's high noon Aimless I stand, my promised task undone, And raise my hot eyes to the angry sun That will go down too soon.
Turned into gall Are the sweet joys of childhood's sunny reign; And memory is a torture, love a chain That binds my life in thrall.
And childhood's pain Could to me now the purest rapture yield; I pray for tears as in his parching field The husbandman for rain.
We pray in vain!
The sullen sky flings down its blaze of bra.s.s; The joys of life all scorched and withering pa.s.s; I shall not weep again.
On the Bluff
O grandly flowing River!
O silver-gliding River!
Thy springing willows s.h.i.+ver In the sunset as of old; They s.h.i.+ver in the silence Of the willow-whitened islands, While the sun-bars and the sand-bars Fill air and wave with gold.
O gay, oblivious River!
O sunset-kindled River!
Do you remember ever The eyes and skies so blue On a summer day that shone here, When we were all alone here, And the blue eyes were too wise To speak the love they knew?
O stern impa.s.sive River!
O still unanswering River!
The s.h.i.+vering willows quiver As the night-winds moan and rave.
From the past a voice is calling, From heaven a star is falling, And dew swells in the bluebells Above her hillside grave.
Una
In the whole wide world there was but one, Others for others, but she was mine, The one fair woman beneath the sun.
From her gold-flax curls' most marvellous s.h.i.+ne Down to the lithe and delicate feet There was not a curve nor a waving line
But moved in a harmony firm and sweet With all of pa.s.sion my life could know.
By knowledge perfect and faith complete
I was bound to her,--as the planets go Adoring around their central star, Free, but united for weal or woe.
She was so near and Heaven so far-- She grew my heaven and law and fate Rounding my life with a mystic bar
No thought beyond could violate.
Our love to fulness in silence nursed Grew calm as morning, when through the gate
Of the glimmering East the sun has burst, With his hot life filling the waiting air.
She kissed me once,--that last and first
Of her maiden kisses was placid as prayer.
Against all comers I sat with lance In rest, and, drunk with my joy, I sware
Defiance and scorn to the world's worst chance.
In vain! for soon unhorsed I lay At the feet of the strong G.o.d Circ.u.mstance--
And never again shall break the day, And never again shall fall the night That shall light me, or s.h.i.+eld me, on my way
To the presence of my sad soul's delight.
Her dead love comes like a pa.s.sionate ghost To mourn the Body it held so light,
And Fate, like a hound with a purpose lost, Goes round bewildered with shame and fright.
Through the long days and years What will my loved one be, Parted from me?
Through the long days and years.
Always as then she was Loveliest, brightest, best, Blessing and blest,-- Always as then she was.
Never on earth again Shall I before her stand, Touch lip or hand,-- Never on earth again.
But while my darling lives Peaceful I journey on, Not quite alone, Not while my darling lives.
A Phylactery
Wise men I hold those rakes of old Who, as we read in antique story, When lyres were struck and wine was poured, Set the white Death's Head on the board-- Memento mori.
Love well! love truly! and love fast!
True love evades the dilatory.
Life's bloom flares like a meteor past; A joy so dazzling cannot last-- Memento mori.
Stop not to pluck the leaves of bay That greenly deck the path of glory, The wreath will wither if you stay, So pa.s.s along your earnest way-- Memento mori.
Hear but not heed, though wild and shrill, The cries of faction transitory; Cleave to _your_ good, eschew _your_ ill, A Hundred Years and all is still-- Memento mori.
When Old Age comes with m.u.f.fled drums, That beat to sleep our tired life's story, On thoughts of dying, (Rest is good!) Like old snakes coiled i' the sun, we brood-- Memento mori.
Blondine
I wandered through a careless world Deceived when not deceiving, And never gave an idle heart The rapture of believing.
The smiles, the sighs, the glancing eyes, Of many hundred comers Swept by me, light as rose-leaves blown From long-forgotten summers.
