Page:The Poets and Poetry of the West.djvu/649

 1850-60.] M. LOUISA C II I T AV D. (i33 And when the storm-clouds o'er me rise, Slight are the spells that take us Nor light comes with the day, To sweetest thoughts, and wake us That little hand is o'er mine eyes, From heartless things that make us To wipe their mists away. Of sordid life the slaves ; And through the world's rough bustle Oh, death is not forgetfulness ! There come the rush and rustle It is not utter loss : Of angel-wings, like waves. Our dear ones do not love us less O O ' When they the death-gulf cross. Oh, thou sweet cherub — gentle dove, From storms forever flown, Let thy light spirit-hand of love THE TWO VOICES. Forever clasp mine own. " The way is rough, the rocks are bare. How can my bleeding footsteps cross ? " — " Courage! faint heart, do not despair. THE ROBIN'S SONG. The rocks are dotted o'er with moss." I HEAR a robin singing " The way is dark, and lone and far. Out in the Autumn rain; The mists of gloom around me rise." — My soul its way is winging To childhood's time again ; " Look through thy tears, behold a star I hear the south winds blowing. Soft shining on the tranquil skies." The rush of the harvest mowing, And the voice of the river flowing, " The way is desolate, I know Where lilies lived and died ; Not where to turn — afraid, alone." — I rest beneath the shadow Of the aspen in the meadow, " Have faith, a hand as pure as snow. With no hope crucified. Is waiting to receive thine own." And now his song is over, " The way is sad, the tones that thrilled I hear the falling rain, My heart, come to my ears no more." — But I seem to smell the clover With honeyed lips again ; " Go on in hope ; they are but stilled. And locks the world hath braided. That thou mayst seek them gone before." And eyes the tomb hath shaded, Come back undimmed, unfaded, " The way is cheerless : ah, my path To my glad heart once more ; Bears more of w^oe than others feel." — And all the sky is lighter. " Not so, the smiles another hath And all the world is brighter, A secret canker oft conceal." Until my dream is o'er. " The way is fearful ! ah, the stream Oh, frail ties, fair and golden. Is dark, by fears my heart is riven." — That bind us to the past — Oh, dreams Avhen hours the olden " Courage one moment, yonder gleam Seem all come back at last ; The jasper gates of rest and heaven."