Love Letters of a Violinist and Other Poems Part 19

O thou dead son!

O Sachal! far away, But not forgot to-day, I had a mother, too, but now have none.

IX.

Our hopes are brave.

Our faiths are braver still.

 

The soul shall no man kill; For G.o.d will find us, each one in his grave.

X.

A land more vast Than Europe's kingdoms are,-- A brighter, n.o.bler star Than victory's fearful light,--is thine at last.

XI.

And should'st thou meet Yon Germans up on high,-- Thy foes when death was nigh,-- Nor thou nor they will sound the soul's retreat.

XII.

For all are just, Yea, all are patriots there, And thou, O Fils de Pierre!

Hast found thy marshal's baton in the dust.

XIII.

Oh, farewell, friend; My friend, albeit unknown, Save in thy death alone, Oh, fare thee well till sin and sorrow end.

XIV.

In realms of joy We'll meet; aye, every one: Mother and sire and son,-- And my poor mother, too, will claim her boy.

XV.

Death leads to G.o.d.

Death is the Sword of Fate, Death is the Golden Gate That opens up to glory, through the sod.

XVI.

And thou that road, O Sachal! thou hast found; A king is not so crown'd As thou art, soldier! in thy blest abode.

XVII.

Deathless in death, Exalted, not destroy'd, Thou art in Heaven employ'd To swell the songs of angels with thy breath.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

THE LADY OF THE MAY.

I.

O stars that fade in amber skies Because ye dread the light of day, O moon so lonely and so wise, Look down, and love my Love alway; Salute the Lady of the May.

II.

O lark that soarest in the light To hail thy lord in his array, Look down; be just; and sing aright.

A lover claims thy song to-day To greet his Lady of the May.

III.

"O lady! lady!" sings the lark, "Thy lover's hest I do obey; For thou art splendid after dark, And where thou smilest, there is day; And thou'rt the Lady of the May.

IV.

"The nightingale's a friend of mine, And yesternight she flew my way.

'Awake,' she cried, 'at morning s.h.i.+ne And sing for me thy blythest lay To greet the Lady of the May.'

V.

"'And tell her, tell her, gentle one, While thou attun'st thy morning lay, That I will sing at set of sun Another song for thy sweet fay, Because she's Lady of the May.'

VI.

"And lo I come," the lark in air, Self-pois'd and free, did seem to say, "I come to greet thy lady's hair And call its beams the light of day Which decks thy Lady of the May."

VII.

Oh, thank thee, bird that singest well!

For all thou say'st and still would'st say And for the thoughts which Philomel Intends to trill, in roundelay, To greet my Lady of the May.

VIII.