Kitabı oku: «Songs of Womanhood», sayfa 3

The Flower to the Bud

 
Tiny heart beneath my hand,
Say, what treasures will you hold?
O, what blossom will unfold,
Late to bloom, or soon to fade,
From this bud, my baby-maid?
Through what shallows will you wade,
To what heights will you aspire
In your spirit's white desire?
Will you mar or will you make?
Will you give or will you take?
Will you glow or will you break
With the running of the sand —
Tiny heart beneath my hand?..
 

SIX SONGS OF GIRLHOOD

Love and the Maidens

 
He seemed asleep; his wings were wet
With dew; he lay among the flowers,
Sweeter than Spring; his radiant curls
With primrose and with violet
Were crowned; and in a silent ring the girls
Watched, all an April morning's misty hours…
 
 
Not one dared wake him – yet each breast
Yearned to be pillow to a thing
So fair. 'How will he smile?' thought they,
'In waking?..' But between them pressed
One who with laughter bore the rogue away,
Ere they had touched a feather of his wing.
 

Awakenings

 
The first time she awoke,
Her room was filled with light;
Thought she: They've made a little fire
To warm me through the night…
 
 
The next time she awoke,
Sweet music stirred the air;
Thought she: They've brought a magic lyre
To make my dreams more fair…
 
 
The third time she awoke,
The dawn-swept sky was gray;
Thought she: I know my heart's desire
Will come to me to-day…
 
 
But empty was the street,
 
 
And ashen was the hearth;
And the music-maker's nimble feet
Were speeding o'er the earth.
 

The Clouded Soul

 
O what have you done with your heart, daughter,
And what have you done to your soul, my dear?
Your heart was like a lily in June,
And your soul as a crystal clear…
 
 
O, I've thrown my heart in a well, mother,
For the lily was sick, and needed rain:
O, I've wept a cloud round my soul, mother,
And we never shall see it again…
 

The Healer

 
O will you have my heart, sweet maid,
My heart so true, my heart so red?
O will you have my heart, dear maid,
And give me yours instead?
 
 
O keep your heart, my good young man,
For mine is wounded, deep and sore;
O keep your heart, my kind young man,
For mine shall love no more…
 

The Open Door

 
Why have you locked the door, my maid,
Why have you locked the door?
O! I have let Grief out, she said,
Never to enter more.
 
 
Open and set it wide, my maid,
Open and set it wide!
Lest Joy should come one day, he said,
And have to stand outside.
 

The Fugitive

 
When she returned to the clouded land,
She held sweet flowers in her hand;
Her eyes were bright
With a beaming light
That none could understand.
 
 
Said they: Where, sister, hast thou been?
What hidden glory hast thou seen?
What magic sod
Has thy white foot trod;
What song-filled groves of green?
 
 
Said she: I followed across the plain
To the gates of Love, to the gates of Pain:
By one, by two,
All the rest went through:
But I came back again…
 

THE FAITHFUL WIFE

 
It was a banished chieftain
Returned from oversea,
And he saw his wife and children
Come smiling o'er the lea.
 
 
The moon had wrapped them in her beams,
The wind was in their hair,
Their feet that trod the wild bluebell
Were light as wings on air.
 
 
'O have you come to meet me, wife,
As you once did swear to do?
Full seven years have I been gone,
And was your word so true?'
 
 
He took her by the white cool hand
 
 
Where the golden rings shone gay;
He took her youngest on his arm
And joyful led the way.
 
 
'O fair are ye, my father's towers,
And sweet my garden dear:
God grant I never leave you more
Till Death o'ertake me here!'
 
 
The lights were burning in the hall,
As they sat them down to meat;
The pipers piped a merry tune
The while their lord did eat.
 
 
He looked to right, he looked to left,
And a happy man was he,
As he stroked the head of the good gre-hound
That stood beside his knee.
 
 
'O, I am weary, wife, my wife,
 
 
And the flames begin to pale;
Lead on, for I would sleep awhile
Before I tell my tale.'
 
 
She lifted the bright curtain
That led into her bower;
There came the tramp of parting feet
And silence held the tower.
 
 
'O wife, how long have I been gone?
The room smells of roses still —
O wife, our babes are very young,
Their limbs are cold and chill…'
 
 
She folded up their raiment small,
She smiled but said no word:
She laid her children in one bed,
Then came beside her lord.
 
 
He could not sleep, he could not wake,
 
 
But lay in silence there;
His dear wife held him by the hand,
He felt her wind-blown hair —
 
 
'O Mother! Mother!' whispered one,
'Why must we sleep so soon?
The sun is hidden down below,
I still can see the moon.'
 
 
'Be quiet, be quiet, my little child,
And watch the moonbeams creep;
To-night you may not play about,
For your father lies asleep.'
 
 
'O Mother! Mother!' whispered one,
'It is not time for bed!
Where have you put my little lid?
I cannot hide my head.'
 
 
'Lie still, lie still, my tiny child,
 
 
Your father dear is found:
We four shall never sleep again
In the dark and heavy mound.'
 
 
'O Mother! Mother!' whispered one,
'How shall that ever be?
We may not bide in the light of day
To watch upon the lea.'
 
 
'No need, no need, my pretty child,
For your father dear has come;
We'll kiss him once, we'll kiss him twice,
Then seek our own far home.'
 
 
He heard them laugh with baby joy,
He felt their kisses sweet,
He heard the patter to the door
Of their unearthly feet…
 
 
He could not stir when she bent low
 
 
To kiss him on the lips —
He could not raise, to hold her fast,
His anguished finger-tips;
 
 
But his heart against her silent breast
Beat loud in wild despair —
He heard the swaying of her skirt,
And his soul leapt forth in prayer.
 

 
A shepherd rose to call his sheep
When the morning sky was gray;
The owl flew back to the ruined tower —
He led his flock that way.
 
 
And lo! amid the scattered stones
That the foe had strewn around,
He saw his long-lost chieftain lie
A corpse upon the ground.
 
 
A smile was on his breathless lips,
 
 
And he lay on the flowered sward,
Where his wife and babes had bled to death
Beneath a traitor's sword.