MAIDENHOOD. O suffering, sad humanity! Patient, though sorely tried! I pledge you in this cup of grief, The alarm, the struggle, the relief, — Then sleep we side by side. MAIDENHOOD.. MAIDEN! with the meek, brown eyes, In whose orbs a shadow Like the dusk in evening skies! Thou whose locks outshine the sun, Golden tresses, wreathed in one, Standing, with reluctant feet, Gazing, with a timid glance, Deep and still, that gliding stream Then why pause with indecision, 27 Seest thou shadows sailing by, Hearest thou voices on the shore, O, thou child of many prayers! Like the swell of some sweet tune, May glides onward into June. Childhood is the bough, where slumbered Birds and blossoms many-numbered ; Age, that bough with snows encumbered. Gather, then, each flower that grows, Bear a lily in thy hand; Gates of brass cannot withstand Bear through sorrow, wrong, and ruth, O, that dew, like balm, shall steal Into wounds, that cannot heal, And that smile, like sunshine, dart TH HE shades of night were falling fast, Excelsior! His brow was sad; his eye beneath, And like a silver clarion rung The accents of that unknown tongue, In happy homes he saw the light Of household fires gleam warm and bright; "Try not the Pass!" the old man said; "Dark lowers the tempest overhead,. The roaring torrent deep and wide!" And loud that clarion voice replied, Excelsior! "O stay," the maiden said, "and rest "Beware the pine-tree's withered branch! Beware the awful avalanche! This was the peasant's last Good-night, A voice replied, far up the height, Excelsior! At break of day, as heavenward A voice cried through the startled air, A traveller, by the faithful hound, There in the twilight cold and gray, And from the sky, serene and far, A GLEAM OF SUNSHINE. 31 A GLEAM OF SUNSHINE. HIS is the place. TH Stand still, my steed, Let me review the scene, And summon from the shadowy Past The Past and Present here unite Here runs the highway to the town; Through which I walked to church with thee, The shadow of the linden-trees, Lay moving on the grass; Between them and the moving boughs, A shadow, thou didst pass. Thy dress was like the lilies, And thy heart as pure as they : One of God's holy messengers Did walk with me that day. I saw the branches of the trees Sleep, sleep to-day, tormenting cares, Of earth and folly born!" Solemnly sang the village choir On that sweet Sabbath morn. |