Therefore, lest sudden death should come between,
Or time, or distance, clasp with pressure firm
The hand of him who goeth forth;
Yes, find thou always time to say some earnest word
Between the idle talk,
Lest with thee henceforth,
Night and day, regret should walk.
IN the light of the moon, by the side of the water,
My seat on the sand and her seat on my knees,
We watch the bright billows, do I and my daughter,
My sweet little daughter Louise.
We wonder what city the pathway of glory
That broadens away to the limitless west
Leads up to-she minds me of some pretty story
"To the city that mortals love best."
Then I say, "It must lead to the far-away city,
The beautiful city of rest."
In the light of the moon, by the side of the water,
Stand two in the shadow of whispering trees,
And one loves my daughter, my beautiful daughter,
My womanly daughter Louise.
She steps to the boat with a touch of his fingers,
And out on the diamonded pathway they move.
The shallop is lost in the distance; it lingers,
It waits, but I know that its coming will prove
That it went to the walls of the beautiful city
The magical city of love.
In the light of the moon, by the side of the water,
I wait for her coming from over the seas;
I wait but to welcome the dust of my daughter,
To weep for my daughter Louise.
The path, as of old, reaching out in its splendor,
Gleams bright, like a way that an angel has trod;
I kiss the cold burden its billows surrender,
Sweet clay to lie under the pitiful sod;
But she rests, at the end of the path, in the city,
"Whose builder and maker is God."
AND this is the end of it all! it rounds the year's completeness; Only a walk to the stile, through fields afoam with sweetness; Only the sunset light, purple and red on the river,
And a lingering, low good-night, that means good-by forever.
So be it! and God be with you! It had been perhaps more
Had you sooner (pardon the word) been sure of knowing your
We can bear so much in youth- who cares for a swift, sharp pain?
And the two-edged sword of truth cuts deep, but it leaves no
I shall just go back to my work- my little household cares, That never make any show. By time, perhaps in my prayers, may think of you! For the rest, on this way we 've trodden together
My foot shall fall as lightly as if my heart were a feather,
And not a woman's heart, strong to have and to keep,
Patient when children cry, soft to lull them to sleep,
Hiding its secrets close, glad when another's hand'
Finds for itself a gem where hers found only sand.
Good-by! The year has been bright. As oft as the blossoms
The peach with its waxen pink, the waving snow of the plum,
I shall think how I used to watch, so happy to see you pass,
I could almost kiss the print of your foot on the dewy grass.
I am not ashamed of my love! Yet I would not have yours
Though you laid it down at my feet; I could not stoop so low.
A love is but half a love that contents itself with less
Than love's utmost faith and truth and unwavering tenderness.
Only this walk to the stile; this parting word by the river, That flows so quiet and cold, ebbing and flowing forever. "Good-by!" Let me wait to hear the last, last sound of his feet!
Ah me! but I think in this life of ours the bitter outweighs the
LEAN closer, darling, let thy tender heart
Beat against mine that aches with heavy woe;
Drop thy quick woman's tears to soothe thy smart.
Ah me! that I could ease my sorrow so!
But man must work, sweetheart, and women weep,
So says the song, so runs the world's behest;
Yet time will pass, and tender comfort creep
With hope in company unto thy breast.
Now, ere we part, while yet on lip and cheek
Close kisses linger, clinging, passionate,
There is a farewell word love fain would speak,
A tender thought love labors to translate
In earnest words, whose memory through the years
Shall calm thy soul and dry thy dropping tears.
If in thy garden, when the roses blow,
Or by the shelter of thine evening fire,
In any winter gloom or summer glow,
Thy soul floats seaward with a fond desire
(Fonder and stronger than thy tender use),
Think thou," One longs for me across the foam;"
And if, sweet-falling like the evening dews,
A special peace enfolds that heart and home,
Then say thou, dear, with softly bated breath,
"In some lone wilderness beyond the sea,
Whether in light of life, or gloom of death,
My lover's spirit speaks to God for me!
Kiss me, beloved, without doubt or dread;
We are not sundered, though farewell be said.
All the Year Round.
GOOD-NIGHT, dear friend! I say good-night to thee
Across the moonbeams, tremulous and white,
Bridging all space between us, it may be.
Lean low, sweet friend; it is the last good-night.
For, lying low upon my couch, and still,
The fever flush evanished from my face,
I heard them whisper softly, "'Tis His will;
Angels will give her happier resting-place!"
And so from sight of tears that fell like rain,
And sounds of sobbing smothered close and low,
I turned my white face to the window-pane,
To say good-night to thee before I go.
Good-night! good-night! I do not fear the end,
The conflict with the billows dark and high;
And yet, if I could touch thy hand, my friend,
I think it would be easier to die;
If I could feel through all the quiet waves
Of my deep hair thy tender breath athrill,
I could go downward to the place of graves
With eyes ashine and pale lips smiling still;
Or it may be that, if through all the strife
And pain of parting I should hear thy call,
I would come singing back to sweet, sweet life,
And know no mystery of death at all.
It may not be. Good-night, dear friend, good-night!
And when you see the violets again,
And hear, through boughs with swollen buds awhite,
The gentle falling of the April rain,
Remember her whose young life held thy name
With all things holy, in its outward flight,
And turn sometimes from busy haunts of men
To hear again her low good-night! good-night!
HESTER A. BENEDICT.
I STOOD and watched my ships go out,
Each, one by one, unmooring, free,
What time the quiet harbor filled
With flood-tide from the sea.
The first that sailed, her name was Joy;
She spread a smooth, white, shining sail,
And eastward drove with bending spars
Before the sighing gale.
Another sailed, her name was Hope;
No cargo in her hold she bore;
Thinking to find in western lands
Of merchandise a store.
The next that sailed, her name was Love;
She showed a red flag at her mast,
A flag as red as blood she showed,
And she sped south right fast.
The last that sailed, her name was Faith;
Slowly she took her passage forth,
Tacked and lay to; at last she steered
A straight course for the north.
My gallant ships, they sailed away
Over the shimmering summer sea;
I stood at watch for many a day
But one came back to me.
For Joy was caught by pirate Pain;
Hope ran upon a hidden reef,
And Love took fire and foundered fast
In whelming seas of grief.
Faith came at last, storm-beat and torn
She recompensed me all my loss;
For, as a cargo safe, she brought
A crown linked to a cross.
His hand at last! By his own fingers writ,
I catch my name upon the wayworn sheet:
His hand oh, reach it to me quick! And yet,
Scarce can I hold, so fast my pulses beat.
O feast of soul! O banquet richly spread!
O passion-lettered scroll from o'er the sea!
Like a fresh burst of life to one long dead,
Joy, strength, and bright content come back with thee,
Long prayed and waited for through months so drear;
Each day methought my waiting heart must break;
Why is it that our loved ones grow more dear
The more we suffer for their sweetest sake?
His hand at last! each simple word aglow
With truthful tenderness and promise sweet.
Now to my daily tasks I'll singing go,
Fed by the music of this wayworn sheet.
As two proud ships upon the pathless main
Meet once and never hope to meet again,
Meet once with merry signallings, and part,
Each homeward bound to swell the crowded mart,
So we two met, one golden summer day,
Within the shelter of life's dreaming bay,
And rested, calmly anchored from the world,
For one brief hour, with snowy pinions furled;
But when the sun sank low along the west,
We left our harbor, with its peaceful rest,
And floated outward in life's tangled sea
With foam-kissed waves between us, wild and free.
As two ships part upon the trackless main,
So we two parted. Shall we meet again?
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