The Poems Of Henry Timrod Part 5

She loved me, yet my heart would doubt, And ere I spoke the month was June-- One warm still night we wandered out To watch a slowly setting moon.

Something which I saw not--my eyes Were not on heaven--a star, perchance, Or some bright drapery of the skies, Had caught her earnest, upper glance.

And as she paused--Hal! we have played Upon the very spot--a fir Just touched me with its dreamy shade, But the full moonlight fell on her--

And as she paused--I know not why-- I longed to speak, yet could not speak; The bashful are the boldest--I-- I stooped and gently kissed her cheek.

A murmur (else some fragrant air Stirred softly) and the faintest start-- O Hal! we were the happiest pair!

O Hal! I clasped her heart to heart!

And kissed away some tears that gushed; But how she trembled, timid dove, When my soul broke its silence, flushed With a whole burning June of love.

Since then a happy year hath sped Through months that seemed all June and May, And soon a March sun, overhead, Will usher in the crowning day.

Twelve blessed moons that seemed to glow All summer, Hal!--my peerless Kate!

She is the dearest--"Angel?"--no!

Thank G.o.d!--but you shall see her--wait.

So all is told! I count on thee To see the Priest, Hal! Pa.s.s the wine!

Here's to my darling wife to be!

And here's to--when thou find'st her--thine!

Serenade

Hide, happy damask, from the stars, What sleep enfolds behind your veil, But open to the fairy cars On which the dreams of midnight sail; And let the zephyrs rise and fall About her in the curtained gloom, And then return to tell me all The silken secrets of the room.

Ah, dearest! may the elves that sway Thy fancies come from emerald plots, Where they have dozed and dreamed all day In hearts of blue forget-me-nots.

And one perhaps shall whisper thus: Awake! and light the darkness, Sweet!

While thou art reveling with us, He watches in the lonely street.

Youth and Manhood

Another year! a short one, if it flow Like that just past, And I shall stand--if years can make me so-- A man at last.

Yet, while the hours permit me, I would pause And contemplate The lot whereto unalterable laws Have bound my fate.

Yet, from the starry regions of my youth, The empyreal height Where dreams are happiness, and feeling truth, And life delight--

From that ethereal and serene abode My soul would gaze Downward upon the wide and winding road, Where manhood plays;

Plays with the baubles and the gauds of earth-- Wealth, power, and fame-- Nor knows that in the twelvemonth after birth He did the same.

Where the descent begins, through long defiles I see them wind; And some are looking down with hopeful smiles, And some are--blind.

And farther on a gay and glorious green Dazzles the sight, While n.o.ble forms are moving o'er the scene, Like things of light.

Towers, temples, domes of perfect symmetry Rise broad and high, With pinnacles among the clouds; ah, me!

None touch the sky.

None pierce the pure and lofty atmosphere Which I breathe now, And the strong spirits that inhabit there, Live--G.o.d sees how.

Sick of the very treasure which they heap; Their tearless eyes Sealed ever in a heaven-forgetting sleep, Whose dreams are lies;

And so, a motley, unattractive throng, They toil and plod, Dead to the holy ecstasies of song, To love, and G.o.d.

Dear G.o.d! if that I may not keep through life My trust, my truth, And that I must, in yonder endless strife, Lose faith with youth;

If the same toil which indurates the hand Must steel the heart, Till, in the wonders of the ideal land, It have no part;

Oh! take me hence! I would no longer stay Beneath the sky; Give me to chant one pure and deathless lay, And let me die!

Hark to the Shouting Wind

Hark to the shouting Wind!

Hark to the flying Rain!

And I care not though I never see A bright blue sky again.

There are thoughts in my breast to-day That are not for human speech; But I hear them in the driving storm, And the roar upon the beach.

And oh, to be with that s.h.i.+p That I watch through the blinding brine!

O Wind! for thy sweep of land and sea!

O Sea! for a voice like thine!

Shout on, thou pitiless Wind, To the frightened and flying Rain!

I care not though I never see A calm blue sky again.

Too Long, O Spirit of Storm