"For love of her, to victory He his brave squadron led, Then broke his true heart, and her scarf Pillowed his dying head.
"So died this knight of Normandy, Died with his sword unstained;"
I know not that she heard my words, So near the boat had gained.
I said, Heaven bless her, in my heart, She had no thought for me; I turned away and left them there Beside the beating sea.
Behind me lay the sweet moonlight, My shadow went before, And pa.s.sed a dark and gloomy shape Before me through the door.
Oh strange and sad this life of ours, This life beneath the sun; O sad and strange and full of pain G.o.d help us, every one.
G.o.d help us, that we may endure Like him of Normandy; And die with sword unstained, that has Led us to victory.
SOMETIME.
On the sh.o.r.e I sit and gaze Out on the twilight sea, For my ship may come, though many days I have waited patiently; With waiting trusting eyes, A lonely watch I keep For its silver sails to rise Like a blossom out of the deep.
It is built of a costly wood, Bearing the strange perfume Of the gorgeous solitude, Where it grew in tropical gloom; And the odorous scent, the spicy balm Of its isle it will bear to me, As I stand on the sh.o.r.e, in the magic calm.
And my ship come in from sea.
It is laden with all that is sweet Of the beauty of every clime; Slowly and proudly "twill glide to my feet In the eve of that fair "Sometime,"
Before me its sails will be furled, A princess I shall be, Crowned with the wealth of the world, When my ship comes in from sea.
Sweet faces I then shall see, Tender, undoubting, true, Soft hands will be stretched to me With a welcome I never knew; In the peace of such tenderness I shall rest forevermore, And weep in my perfect bliss, As I never wept before.
Sometimes I think it is not far And I bend my head and list, For I think I see a slender spar Gleam through the golden mist; And I fancy I hear the sound Of wind in a silken sail, And an odor rare from Eastern ground, Floats in on the languid gale.
But I sit and watch the west Till the sun goes down, in vain; It was only a cloud with an ivory crest, A cloud of vapor and rain; It rises and hides the sea, And my heart grows chill and numb, Lest this terrible thing should be, That my ship will never come.
But the morn is bright--the wave Is a golden and shining track, Softly the waters the white sands lave, And my trusting faith comes back; Oh, all that I ever lost, And all that I long to be, Will be mine when the deep is crossed, And my ship comes home from sea.
MOTIVES.
I said that I would see Her once, to curse her fair, deceitful grace, To curse her for my life-long agony; But when I saw her face, I said, "Sweet Christ, forgive both her and me."
High swelled the chanted hymn, Low on the marble swept the velvet pall, I bent above, and my eyes grew dim, My sad heart saw it all-- She loved me, loved me though she wedded him.
And then shot through my soul A thrill of fierce delight, to think that he Must yield her form, his all, to Death"s control, The while her love for me Would live, when sun and stars had ceased to roll.
But no, on the white brow, Graved in its marble, was deep calm impressed, Saying that peace had come to her through woe; Saying, she had found rest At last, and I, I must not love her now.
It may be in Heaven"s grace, Beneath the shade of some immortal palm, That G.o.d will let me see her angel face; Then wild, wild heart be calm, Wipe out that old love, every sorrowful trace.
I know that if it be, We two should meet again in Paradise, "Twould trouble her pure soul if she should see The old grief in my eyes; "Twould grieve her dear heart through eternity.
Wipe out that grief, my soul, And shall I lose all love, in losing this?
Unclasp my spirit, self"s close stolid stole.
Are there no lives to bless?
So will I give my love, my life, no stinted dole.
G.o.d will note deeds and sighs, Throned in far splendor on the heavenly hill, Though mad sounds from this wretched planet rise-- Moans wild enough to fill Heaven"s air, and drown its harps in doleful cries.
And angels shall look down, Through incense rising from my G.o.dly deeds.
Approving gleam those eyes of tender brown; Sure on a brow that bleeds, The thorns should change to a more glorious crown.
Well done, my soul, well done, Out of thy grief to rear a ladder tall To reach the land that lies beyond the sun, To scale the jasper wall, And rise to glory on grief"s stepping stone.
G.o.d looks into the tide, Angel and demon troubled, of a man"s mind; And if my alms are scattered far and wide, Only my love to find, Only to pave a path to reach her side--
Will he accept from me My worship, gifts--the heavens are very still, No answer do I hear, no sign I see, If I but knew His will; Would He would come a-walking on the sea.
The storm is overpast, for sweet and fair A sudden radiance shone o"er wave and lea; And in the glory trembling through the air, He came unto me walking on the sea.
The heavy waves that had rushed to and fro Cowered at His feet in sudden melody; And all transfigured in the shining glow Did He come to me walking on the sea.
Far off I saw His form, but knew it not; He nearer drew, He smiled, my fears did flee; His loving look dispelled a lingering doubt, As He came to me o"er the twilight sea.
I dropped my burden on the shelving sand So I might meet Him, if such bliss could be, I reached the sh.o.r.e, I knelt and kissed His hand With blissful tears beside the twilight sea.
Such love He woke, I would my life have lain Low down to pave His way, "He loveth me Who loveth this sad world, and blesseth man,"
Came blown to me across the twilight sea.
Perplexing questions died within my breast, "Deep peace hath he who doeth lovingly My will, who loveth most, he loveth best,"
Came blown to me across the twilight sea.
The storm was overpast, a breath of balm Lapped the low waves, and lingered on the lea, For in the twilight fell a holy calm, He came unto me walking on the sea.
Was this a dream? If it were not a dream My life is blest in truth, and if it be, I know across the deep has fallen a gleam, A bridge of glory spans the twilight sea.
NIGHTFALL.
Soft o"er the meadow, and murmuring mere, Falleth a shadow, near and more near; Day like a white dove floats down the sky, Cometh the night, love, darkness is nigh; So dies the happiest day.
Slow in thy dark eye riseth a tear, Hear I thy sad sigh, Sorrow is near; Hope smiling bright, love, dies on my breast, As day like a white dove flies down the west; So dies the happiest day.