Oklahoma and Other Poems Part 11

Grief softens while it saddens; pleasure smites The timid soul with harshness, till it knows Small earnest of the great world's grievous woes And little of its struggles; sorrow plights Her troth with sorrow, and in tears unites Man unto man and hatred overthrows.

OKLAHOMA,--A SONNET.

Here, through the ages old, the desert slept In solitudes unbroken, save when pa.s.sed The bison herds, and savage hunters swept In thund'ring chaos down the valleys vast; But, lo! Across the barren margins stepped Advancement with her legions, and one blast From her imperial trumpet filled the last Lone covert where affrighted wildness crept.

Full armed, full armored, at her wondrous birth, Her s.h.i.+ning temples wreathed with gorgeous dower, She sits among the empires of the earth; Her proud achievements o'er the nations tower, Won by her people with their royal worth, With lofty culture, wisdom, wealth and power.

ESTRANGED.

Though far apart, my darling, side by side We wander still and our fond yearnings meet, As when our hearts with highest raptures beat Before our footsteps trod the paths of pride; Our close companions.h.i.+p hath never died; True love and trust are always fair and sweet, And time from life's best hopes can never hide A kindred soul that made its own complete!

So thou, dear one, shall come once more to me, The sweeter grown for all thy years of pain; My longing arms shall open wide for thee, And thou shalt nestle on my breast again; Then perfect love shall richly crown the years, And both be better for our griefs and tears.

RECONCILED.

We meet again beyond the barren past, Beyond the pride, the sorrows and the tears; And yearnings leave the strife and hate of years To flood our souls with perfect peace at last!

Our hearts forget the wrong so deep and vast, The wounding words and all the cruel woe, Till joy is all our bounding bosoms know, And life is glad with happiness at last.

Love, deathless and forgiving, crowns with bays The future and our hopes, as full of grace, As youth had fondly dreamed in other days, When first we knew how sweet was her embrace.

G.o.d's endless purpose guides the feet of men; Beyond our pride we meet in love again!

THE DYING HERO.

His greatness hath not left him; till the years Have won the nation from her children dead, And robbed her of remembrance where she rears Her monuments above the blood they shed, Will his name want for homage; with sad fears The Union winds her garlands o'er his head, And fondly wreathes her love, bedewed with tears, To bless the hero on his dying bed.

His l.u.s.ter lives untarnished; as he lies Where Malady has bound him in wild pain, And only Death can loose the heavy chain That galls her captive while his nature dies, He seems far greater in his country's eyes, Than if an Appomattox spake again.

SONNET.

Somehow, someway, I can not see the light; The giant hills of doubting reach the skies, Abiding shadows bring eternal night, And on my ways no suns of morning rise; Dark mysteries across the years of might Crush down my hopes, until each yearning dies, Until my soul is weary, dim my sight, And ghostly echoes mock my fainting cries.

Ah, I shall know beyond these narrow years, The glorious mornings of eternal day, Where perfect love and tender trust shall play, And smiles and laughter banish all the tears, And all the heavy mists of doubts and fears Shall leave my longing soul somehow, someway!

GREATNESS LIVES APART.

Great natures live apart; the mountain gray May call no comrade to his lonely side; The giant ocean, wrapped in storm and spray, Has no companion for her endless tide; The forest monarch, where his parents died, Can find no brother in his lofty sway, And mighty rivers chafe their margins wide Where infant rills and childish fountains play.

So heroes live; no raptured blossoms start Where rugged heights of human glory end; No tender songs of loving beauty blend Their chorus in the great man's peerless heart; Fate fills their souls with magnitude, and art Supplies their lives with no congenial friend.

POEMS.

Poems are holy things. Eternal Truth, Borrowing the robes of song and lovely grown, In them her glory unto man proclaims And fills his longing soul. They softly speak Of Nature's beauty and the secrets old Concealed behind the shadows of the hills, And love on angel fingers borne to men, Naming them over in so sweet a voice That music leads their footsteps in the ways Where G.o.d has walked; and with a lofty Harp, As wondrous as the gentle harps of heaven, Uplifts, enn.o.bles, soothes and leads the race Unto its last great ultimate of power, To words of tenderness and goodly deeds.

SINGER AND SONG.

A singer sang in sorrow long And breathed his life into his song.

Unknown, unheard, the song went wide, Until the singer, starving, died.

Now in their hearts the nations write And wear the singer's song of might.

Ah, singers fail and fall from view, But songs are always, always new!

If garlands none to singers cling, Bays wreathe above the songs they sing.

TO ONE WHO PLEDGED HER FRIENDs.h.i.+P.

Within this false world we may count ourselves blest, If we have but one friend who is faithful and true; And so in your friends.h.i.+p contented I'll rest, And believe I have found that one blessing in you.

THE BANKS O' TURKEY RUN.