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I.
Quietness
(Margaret) IS the world so very sad a place? | |
| Looking out here through geranium leaves, | |
| We can see the sky all rosy grace, | |
| And can feel, what one of us believes, | |
| That He giveth His belovèd sleep— | 5 |
| Not in death alone we cease to weep. | |
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| Softly, shining cloudlets come and go, | |
| While the blue shows deeper in between, | |
| And the very sunset leaves a glow | |
| Lovelier than all rays the day has seen: | 10 |
| Flecks of light make blossoms on the floor. | |
| Silent music wraps us o’er and o’er. | |
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| Still and quiet, with intensest calm, | |
| As the centre of all motion rests; | |
| So we breathe away those hours of balm, | 15 |
| Rise with strengthened hearts within our breasts. | |
| Go, dear, but remember, through all weather, | |
| We are friends—we were in Heaven together. | |
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II.
Youth and Maidenhood
(Gregory) LIKE a drop of water is my heart | |
| Laid upon her soft and rosy palm, | 20 |
| Turned whichever way her hand doth turn, | |
| Trembling in an ecstasy of calm. | |
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| Like a broken rose-leaf is my heart, | |
| Held within her close and burning clasp, | |
| Breathing only dying sweetness out, | 25 |
| Withering beneath the fatal grasp. | |
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| Like a vapoury cloudlet is my heart | |
| Growing into beauty near the sun, | |
| Gaining rainbow hues in her embrace, | |
| Melting into tears when it is done. | 30 |
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| Like mine own dear harp is this my heart, | |
| Dumb, without the hand that sweeps its strings; | |
| Though the hand be careless or be cruel, | |
| When it comes, my heart breaks forth and sings. | |
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