Point Lace and Diamonds Part 10

It causes his words to be softly spoken, With many a lingering pause between, The while the sunbeams chase the shadows Over the mosses, gray and green.

Blushes are needful for its discussion, And soft, shy glances from downcast eyes, In whose blue depths are lying hidden Loving gladness, and sweet surprise.

Trinity Chapel is gay this evening, Filled with beauty, and flowers, and light, A captive fisherman stands at the altar, With Nellie beside him all in white.

The ring is on, the vows are spoken, And smiling friends, good fortune wis.h.i.+ng, Tell him his is the fairest prize Ever brought from a morning's fis.h.i.+ng.

NOCTURNE.

Summer is over, and the leaves are falling, Gold, fire-enamelled in the glowing sun; The sobbing pinetop, the cicada calling Chime men to vesper-musing, day is done.

The fresh, green sod, in dead, dry leaves is hidden; They rustle very sadly in the breeze; Some breathing from the past comes, all unbidden, And in my heart stir withered memories.

Day fades away; the stars show in the azure, Bright with the glow of eyes that know not tears, Unchanged, unchangeable, like G.o.d's good pleasure, They smile and reck not of the weary years.

Men tell us that the stars it knows are leaving Our onward rolling globe, and in their place New constellations rise--is death bereaving The old earth, too, of each familiar face?

Our loved ones leave us; so we all grow fonder Of their world than of ours; for here we seem Alone in haunted houses, and we wonder Which is the waking life, and which the dream.

AUTO-DA-Fe

(HE EXPLAINS.)

Oh, just burning up some old papers, They do make a good deal of smoke: That's right, Dolly, open the window; They'll blaze if you give them a poke.

I've got a lot more in the closet; Just look at the dust! What a mess!

Why, read it, of course, if you want to, It's only a letter, I guess.

(SHE READS.)

Just me, and my pipe, and the fire-light, Whose mystical circles of red Protect me alone with the shadows; The smoke-wreaths engarland my head; And the strains of a waltz, half forgotten, The favorite waltz of the year, Played softly by fairy musicians, Chime sweetly and low on my ear.

The smoke-cloud floats thickly around me, All perfumed and white, till it seems A bride-veil magicians have woven To honor the bride of my dreams.

Float on, dreamy waltz, through my fancies, My thoughts in your harmony twine!

Draw near, phantom face, in your beauty, Look deep, phantom eyes, into mine.

Sweet lips--crimson buds half unfolded-- Give breath to the exquisite voice, That, waking the strands of my being To melody, bids me rejoice.

Dream, soul, till the world's dream is ended!

Dream, heart, of your beautiful past!

For dreaming is better than weeping, And all things but dreams at the last.

Change rules in the world of the waking-- Its laughter aye ends in a sigh; Dreams only are changeless--immortal: A love-dream alone cannot die.

Toil, fools! Sow your hopes in the furrows, Rich harvest of failure you'll reap; Life's riddle is read the most truly By men who but talk in their sleep.

(HE REMONSTRATES.)

There, stop! That'll do--yes, I own it-- But, dear, I was young then, you know.

I wrote that before we were married; Let's see--why, it's ten years ago!

You remember that night, at Drake's party, When you flirted with d.i.c.k all the time?

I left in a state quite pathetic, And went home to scribble that rhyme.

What a boy I was then with my dreaming, And reading the riddle of life!

You gave a good guess at its meaning The night you said "Yes," little wife.

One kiss for old times' sake, my Dolly-- That didn't seem much like a dream.

Holloa! something's wrong with the children!

Those young ones do nothing but scream.

AN AFTERTHOUGHT.

Vine leaves rustled, moonbeams shone, Summer breezes softly sighed; You and I were all alone In a kingdom fair and wide You, a Queen, in all your pride, I, a va.s.sal, by your side.

Fairy voices in the leaves Ceaselessly were whispering: "'Tis the time to garner sheaves-- Let your heart its longing sing; Place upon her hand a ring; Then our Queen shall know her King."

E'en the moonbeams seemed to learn Speech when they had kissed your face, Pa.s.sing fair--my lips did yearn To be moonbeams for a s.p.a.ce-- "Lo, 'tis fitting time and place!

Speak, and courage will find grace."

But the night wind murmured low, Softly brus.h.i.+ng back your hair, "Look into her face, and know That she is a jewel rare, Worthy of a monarch's heir; Who are you that you should dare!"

Hope died like a frost-touched flower; But through all the coming years, In that quiet evening hour, When the flowers are all in tears, When the heart hath hopes and fears, When the day-world disappears.

If the vine leaves rustle low, If the moon s.h.i.+ne on the sea, If the night wind softly blow,-- Dreaming of what may not be,-- Well I know that I shall see Your sweet eyes look down on me.

REDUCTIO AD ABSURDUM.

I had come from the city early That Sat.u.r.day afternoon; I sat with Beatrix under the trees In the mossy orchard; the golden bees Buzzed over clover-tops, pink and pearly; I was at peace, and inclined to spoon.

We were stopping awhile with mother, At the quiet country place Where first we'd met, one blossomy May, And fallen in love--so the dreamy day Brought to my memory many another In the happy time when I won her grace.

Days in the bright Spring weather, When the twisted, rough old tree Showered down apple-blooms, dainty and sweet, That swung in her hair, and blushed at her feet; Sweet was her face as we lingered together, And dainty the kisses my love gave me.

"Dear love, are you recalling The old days, too?" I said.

Her sweet eyes filled, and with tender grace She turned and rested her blus.h.i.+ng face Against my shoulder; a sunbeam falling Through the leaves above us crowned her head.