Fleurs De Lys, and Other Poems Part 5

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Tree, thou art dear for that sweet tryst, Dear, for the maiden's sake, to me Is each spot that her feet have kissed At Chateauguay.

_A BIRTHDAY_.

Fifteen years have come and gone, Maiden since thy large, brown eyes Opened first and looked upon Wintry English skies.

Fifteen treasure s.h.i.+ps they were, Sailing on life's sunlit sea, Bearing frankincense and myrrh Sent from heaven to thee:

Fifteen pilgrims, old and gray, Mounted upon moments fleet, Who have seen thee but to lay Pleasure at thy feet:

Fifteen maids who, like a queen, Decked thee, Sweet, with beauty rare, Till the world hath never seen Maiden half so fair.

And a sixteenth year to-day Brings a wreath of budding hours, Saying: "Let not one decay; All must grow to flowers."

All have not the self-same needs; Loving smiles are life to some, Others but by kindly deeds.

To perfection come.

Some are quickened by a tear, Some by hopes and pleasures dead; Take them, Bright Eyes, without fear, G.o.d is overhead.

_THE LOVERS._

With silken tresses floating free, A dark-eyed maiden wanders Alone beside the murmuring sea, And of her lover ponders.

The fisher boats at anchor ride, The summer moon is waking; Its beams of silver on the tide In rippling flakes are breaking.

The golden sands in murmurs speak, Her dainty foot that presses, The salt sea wind upon her cheek Is lavish of caresses.

Afar upon a winding stream A youth is softly rowing; Above his head the star-worlds gleam, And bright the moon is glowing.

The trees are swaying to and fro, Their shadowy boughs extending, And leaf-born music, sweet and low, Is with the night-wind blending.

Far off, where meadows kiss the stream, A golden light is winking: Upon the waves its soft rays gleam, From crest to hollow sinking.

Upon the youth and maiden's heart The lamp of love is s.h.i.+ning, Though distance holds them both apart, Their souls are intertwining.

_THE SEA Sh.e.l.l._

'Tis a dainty sh.e.l.l, 'tis a fragile sh.e.l.l At my feet that the wild waves threw, And I send it thee, that its lips may tell In thine ear that my heart is true.

It will tell thee how by the sunlit sea Pa.s.s the hours we were wont to share.

On its pearl-pink lips is a kiss for thee That my own loving lips placed there.

In a lady's hand it will snugly lie, 'Tis as thin as a red rose-leaf, Yet it holds the seagull's sorrowing cry, And the roar of the tide-lashed reef.

In its ivory cave, though the mighty sea May find room, and to spare, to move, Yet this same sea sh.e.l.l that I send to thee Is too small to contain my love.

_A JANUARY DAY._

King Winter sleeps. His daughter, Spring, His sceptre steals away, And, laughing, bids fair Nature bring For once a perfect day.

Bright glows the sun in azure skies, And balmy blows the breeze, On gayer wing the sparrow flies, And softly sway the trees.

The seasons run like some great stream That to the ocean flows, The waves that _here_ in suns.h.i.+ne gleam Bound _there_ in mountain snows:

And, as where darkling waters steal, Drear walls of rock between, Yet in their depths a gem reveal That glows with sunny sheen.

So in this bl.u.s.tering month that bears The banner of the year, Such days as this with balmy airs Amid the storms appear.

It is but meet that thy birthday Should open bright and warm, And into darkness fade away Without a cloud or storm.

_REMEMBRANCE_

Alone I pace the path we walked last year.

Dost thou remember it? Then everywhere The wheat-fields s.h.i.+mmered in the summer glare, But now the moonbeams sparkle, silver clear, On swollen stream and meadows dun and drear, While, with the myriad blossoms that they bear, The cherry trees perfume the evening air, And gaunt and cold the ruined house stands near.

The aspens whisper to the pa.s.sing breeze.

I hear the night-hawk's scream, the pipe of frogs, The baying of the distant village dogs, The lapping waves, the rustle of the trees.

And every sound is musical to me, For every sound is a sweet song of thee.

_IN ABSENCE._

Sleep, dearest, sleep beside the murmuring sea; Sleep, dearest, sleep, and bright dreams compa.s.s thee.

My sleepless thoughts a guard of love shall be Around thy couch and bid thee dream of me.

Sleep, Bright Eyes, sleep.

Sleep, dearest, sleep, the slumber of the pure; Sleep, dearest, sleep, in angels' care secure.

Evil itself thy beauty would allure To cease from ill and make thy joyance sure.

Fleurs De Lys, and Other Poems Part 5

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Fleurs De Lys, and Other Poems Part 5 summary

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