Verse > Anthologies > James and Mary Ford, eds. > Every Day in the Year
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James and Mary Ford, eds.  Every Day in the Year.  1902.
 
August 26
To Celia Thaxter
By Annie Field
 
(Died August 26, 1894)

BELOVED, on the shore of this gray world
Thy little bird, the sandpiper, and I
Now stand alone;
And when mine eye
Returned from following thy upward flight,        5
And found him here, and heard his tone,
And saw the tiny wing unfurled,
(As oft for thee)
I knew thy messenger, ’twas he!
 
His little cry        10
Is meek and full of joy in things that lie
Close to our feet;
He speeds along the sands, bidding my sight
Grow keen as thine.
He cries: “O love complete,        15
Thou hast become the leaf and flower
That whisper now companionship;
O follow, follow
Traveller mine!
Thou, too, shalt step        20
Into the hand’s-breadth hollow
Thy dust shall claim!
And no fair fame
Shall stead thee when the winds of life shall fall;
Only my call        25
To the unknown, untried, whither these wings
Now vanish; the fading bower
Can hold and soothe thee not!
O follow, follow,
’Tis Love who sings!        30
Love, love is here and beckons thee away;
My song leads on, thou canst not go astray!
 
 
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