Love or Fame; and Other Poems Part 1

Love or Fame; and Other Poems.

by Fannie Isabelle Sherrick.

Part I.

Girlhood

Girlhood, the dearest time of joy and love, The sunny spring of gladness and of peace, The time that joins its links with heaven above, And all that's pure below; a running ease Of careless thought beguiles the murmuring stream Of girlish life, and as some sweet, vague dream, The fleeting days go by; fair womanhood Comes oft to lure the girlish feet away, But by the brooklet still they love to stray, Nor long to seek the world's engulfing flood.

Hilda--a name that seems to stand alone-- So strong, so clear it sharply echoing tone; And yet a name that holds a weirdlike grace, Withal like some strange, haunting, beauteous face;

A woman's name, by woman's truth made dear, That leans upon itself and knows no fear, And yet a name a shrinking girl might wear, With girlish ease, devoid of thought and care.

And she is worthy of this name so true-- This girl with thoughtful eyes of darkest hue, This maiden stepping o'er the golden line That separates the child from woman divine.

Not yet she feels the longing, vague unrest That ever fills the woman's throbbing breast, But with a childlike questioning after truth, She lingers yet amid the dreams of youth.

And now upon the bounding ocean's sh.o.r.e She stands where creep the wavelets more and more, Until at last the rocky ledge they meet, And break in foam around her lingering feet.

Her eyes glance downward in a careless way, As though she loved their soft caressing play, And fain would stand and muse forever there, Lulled by their murmuring sound.

Placid and fair The ocean lies before her dreamy eyes, Stretched forth in beauty 'neath the sunny skies, And through the clouds' far lifting, sheeny mist She sees the pale blue skies by sunlight kissed.

Enraptured by the calm and holy scene, She stands a creature pure and glad; serene, Her eyes glance heavenward and a roseate shade Plays o'er her Hebe features--perfect made.

A child of nature, she has never known The arts and wiles which worldlier spirits own; She loves the ocean's ever changing play, When round her form is flung its das.h.i.+ng spray, And oft she laughs in wildest, merriest glee When folded close within its billows free.

She loves the wildwood's green and leafy maze, Within whose foliage hide the sun's bright rays; And like a child she h.o.a.rds the bright-eyed flowers, Companions of so many happy hours.

With loving heart she greets each form of earth, To which G.o.d's kindly hand has given birth.

But better far than all, she loves to roam Far on the cliff's lone height, and there at eve To watch the dark s.h.i.+ps as they wander home.

Strange dreams in this calm hour her fancies weave, So quaint and odd, they seem but shadowy rays, Caught from the sunset's deep, mysterious haze.

Lo! now she stands like some pale statue fair, With eyes cast down and careless falling hair; She vaguely dreams of things that are to be, A woman's future, n.o.ble, fresh and free; And o'er her face youth's crimson colors flow, As with a beating heart she thinks she'll give Her life to one true heart, and with a glow Of pride she vows her future life to live So good and true that all her days shall seem But the fulfillment of his heart's proud dream.

Yet soon she trembles with some unknown thought, A vague and restless longing fills her breast, And with a pa.s.sionate fear her mind is wrought.

She cannot case away the strange unrest; With hands clasped close in att.i.tude of prayer She stands, her pleading face so young and fair, Is turned unto the skies, but no, not here Will G.o.d speak all unto her listening ear; Too soon in dark, deep strife upon this sh.o.r.e Her soul will yield its peace forevermore.

And then she hurries home with flying feet, The faces of that humble home to meet; For there in peace her dear old parents dwell, That simple twain who love this maid so well They fain would keep her with them ever there, A thoughtless child, free from all grief and care.

But ah! they cannot understand the heart, Which turns from all their loving ways apart, And dwells within a region of its own.

Within that home she seems to stand alone, While all unseen the forces gather, day By day, that o'er her life shall hold their sway; And like a fragile flower before the storm, She bows her head and ends her slender form, For even like the flower she must stand And brave the tempest, for 'tis G.o.d's command.

And like to her how many a girl has stood Upon the unknown brink of womanhood And sought in vain from guiding hand and power; But unlike her in that dread trial hour, They've lost their faith, for Hilda's trusting mind, E'en though it stood alone, had so much strength, And faith that to life's problem she could find Solution strange and subtle; even though at length She might complain and grieve o'er all the wasted past.

Oh! life is dark and full of unseen care, And better were it if all girls thus fair And young were truly understood at last.

For every girl some time will feel the need Of loving hearts to strengthen and to lead, When first are opened to her wondering eyes The world's fair fields and seeming paradise.

She only sees the beauty--hears the song, Knows not the hidden snares, nor dreams of wrong.

'Tis woman's happiest time, and yet 'tis true A sombre tinge may mar its brightest hue.

For girlhood too will have its doubts and fears, Will lose the past and long for coming years, And sad indeed when youth is left alone To face the coming future all unknown.

The eyes see not that should be strong and keen; While powerless, weak girlhood stands between The tides of life, and though its aims are high, How often will they fail!

Where dangers lie Poor Hilda stands and knows it not, the dream Of life to her is bright, youth's sunny gleam s.h.i.+nes over all in tender, softened light, And swiftly do the moments wing their flight.

But yet so sensitive her shrinking soul, That o'er her life sometimes great shadows roll, Like angry clouds; upon a wild dark sh.o.r.e She stands, alone and weak, while more and more The unknown forces grow and cast their blight, Till all the past is lost in one dark night; Unto the woman's lot her life is cast, And like a dream the girlish days drift past.

Part II.

The Storm.

One eve she stood upon a lonely lea And watched the deep'ning shadows grim That threw their forms athwart the restless sea, Making the radiance of the West grow dim.

A glorious canopy appeared to rest O'er changing sky and distant rocky caves, While o'er some weary sea-bird's pure white breast, A bright glow spread when dipping in the waves, Her tired form found therein coolness; peace Supremely reigned, and under Silence's wings Vanished afar and near the waves' wide rings; Still grander grew the heavy golden skies, With gorgeous hues and airy snow-white fleece, And dreamier grew the maiden's watching eyes, As through and through her trembling soul and frame, The thrill of nature's beauty softly came; And while her eyes with love and rapture filled, Of all that weird and strangely splendid scene, All other thoughts within her soul were stilled, While o'er her head fair spirits seemed to lean.

Around her grew a stillness unto death, The waves their ever restless motion stayed; All living nature seemed to hold its breath, As if by some stupendous power o'erweighed; And right athwart the sunset's fading glow, A great black cloud, like some huge monstrous thing, Threw round and round the sun's last dipping ring The impress of its shadow drooping low; And lower, lower fell that mighty cloud, With menacing shape as in defiance proud, Until at last all sky and earth and sea Seemed filled with shadows from its darkening wings--- That dreadful spell cast over waves once free, Hushed into silence deep all living things.

And still the maiden's watching, eager eyes Were fixed unmoved on black'ning sea and skies; So motionless she stood with hands clasped close And heart-beats growing few and fainter all this time, That e'en it seemed as though the life-blood froze Within her veins, like streams in frigid clime!

To-night she'd seen strange visions in the clouds, Of cities great and busy murmuring crowds, That called her on to some far different life, 'Mid active minds and noisy, changing strife.

With beating heart she saw the clouds unfold, Within their depths there gleamed a crown of gold.

Too soon the scene had faded from the skies, While o'er the earth the threat'ning cloud had spread That rudely thrust itself before her eyes And filled her with an overpowering dread; Yet still she stood with proud, unbending form, Though all the world seemed near some awful doom.

That dreary silence by foretold the storm That soon would rage within the night's dark gloom; A deathly hush o'er waiting land and sea, And then with one loud clap the storm cloud burst.

Behold! the elements again set free, As if with fearful spell they'd long been curst, Now vented all the power of stifled birth Upon the luckless unoffending earth.

The waves around the cliff's low base sprang high And madly dashed their spray in furious rage; The maid, howe'er, looked down with scornful eye, As if she could their mighty power a.s.suage.

She gloried in that strange, terrific storm, The lightning's glare and hurried thunder peal Awakened in her slight and girlish form A hidden might that bade her trembling kneel Upon that lonely, wave-encircled height And pledge her life to fame, that she might win The glory of the world's enthroning light, Then give it back to G.o.d all freed from sin.

Long, long she knelt, her soul in prayer thrown, Unheeding still the lightning's lurid glare; For what were raging storms and nature's moan To that mad strife within her bosom fair!

At last the lightnings ceased, the winds grew still; All powers recognized G.o.d's mightier will; Old ocean, like a child with pa.s.sion spent, Lay gently sobbing in its rocky bed; Anon it sighed and to the dark waves lent, A sad, sweet song; the storm indeed was dead.

Along the sable robes that veiled the sky, The red stars glowed, yet paled each tiny fire Before the yellow moon, who, throned on high, Hung on her crescent bow a golden lyre.

From Hilda, too, the stormy grief had fled, And with a strange, deep peace inspired, she rose From off the rocks and lifted up her head.

The moon smiled on her upturned face, and close Beneath her feet the waves swept to and fro.

A smile as that which lit the tide below, Then dawned upon her lips, for G.o.d her prayer Had heard; that harp of gold--these skies now fair, Seemed but the emblem that her soul's dark strife Should lead her soon unto a n.o.bler life.

Beyond her, on the ledge, a dark form stood, Regarding her with wistful, wondering eyes; He seemed the type of all that's true and good In man; down from the starry, moonlit skies The radiance fell and crowned his youthful head, While on his brow a dim, vague majesty Seemed shadowed forth. Yet restless as the sea His eyes that Hilda's fair young face had read.

With beating heart he'd watched her kneeling there Upon the rocks; had listened to her prayer In silence wondering; so strange it seemed To see her there amid the storm, but still He stood and powerless; a gladdening thrill Ran through his veins to see that form alone, And o'er his n.o.ble, G.o.dlike face there gleamed A pride to think this maid was all his own.

He loved--and love our hearts can ne'er repress-- In truth he gazed upon that face and form As though upon her head each wet and gleaming tress Were more than all the phantoms of the storm.

He loved as even the sun must love the flowers That shyly glance to him 'neath leafy bowers, Or as the river with its strong deep tide Must love the willows nestling by its side.

She stood as one within a waking dream, Nor looked upon the earth, nor in the sky; But only far at sea whose amber gleam Was as the light that in fair gems doth lie.

Entranced she stood--the mocking visions came-- But see! she starts; upon the air her name Steals like a whisper of the wave's low song, Borne by the zephyrs of the night along.

She turns--beside her on the rocks he stands With questioning eyes and eager, outstretched hands; She smiles, then starts back with a startled look, As some wild fawn within its sheltered nook.

"Fair Hilda, tell me why with reckless feet You braved the elements and dared to kneel Here in the angry storm--it was not meet That all this night's wild tempest you should feel."

She looked at him with almost haughty air, To think that to reprove her he should dare; Then fearlessly as some undaunted child She met his eyes that searched her own for truth, She who had scorned the tempest dark and wild, Feared not the chidings of his hasty youth.

And undismayed she moved to where he stood, With blus.h.i.+ng, beauteous charms of maidenhood, And there with rapt eyes looking up to him, She told him of those visions never dim; Of that wild spirit born amid the storm Whose restless strength had swayed her fragile form.