romantic poems

While sunset stains the windows of the west
In parting glory drest,
Ere yet the evening star leads in the hours
That hush all voices in their leafy bowers
Save the lone bird's that shuns the light;
Ere in the burning chamber of the night
With sacramental rite
Of dewdrops on the cerements of the flowers
Its burden dropped, its sins confessed
Our long drawn day is laid at length at rest
We, flung together as the seeds are thrown
The sower's hand has strown,
But clinging as the iron sands that feel

IN MEMORY OF A SON OF ARCHDEACON FARRAR

Afar he sleeps whose name is graven here,
Where loving hearts his early doom deplore;
Youth, promise, virtue, all that made him dear
Heaven lent, earth borrowed, sorrowing to restore.

Your wife and your friends may desert you
And call you a — — Rat,
And all the wide world may reproach you;
But your Country will never do that.

You might lose all your faith in what's human
And hate for the present and past.
You may damn it all: Land, Man, and Woman;
But you'll fight for your country at last!

MEZEREON .

One wintry morn an icicle lay,
Chained, in the sunlight calm and clear,
To a graceful, delicate, frost-bound spray,
Like a diamond-drop in Beauty's ear.

My eye was caught by a strange, rich gleam,
That fitfully played in the pendant pure,
And I thought I saw two bright wings beam
Through the luminous ice; but I was not sure.

I stole to the place, and there — behold!
A fairy child in the icicle's heart!
Tossing his tresses of curled gold,

This life we know, of bliss and woe,
Then what will soft unfold;
Ah, sweet the years of loves and fears,
And youth's mad minted gold.

This life we know but lordly powers,
Above, below, that be,
What of the voyage that is ours
Over the unknown sea!

One kiss for thy brow, love —
One sigh to the past —
One heart-echoed vow, love —
The fondest and last! —
For the true and warm-hearted
In anguish must sever;
It is o'er — we are parted,
Henceforth and for ever!

Yet as Night's scented flower,
Shunning Sunlight's caresses,
Gives the hallowed star-hour
All the wealth it possesses,
So to thee, in thy sadness,

YELLOW-IRIS .

The German peasant wreathes his roof with flower in rich attire,
For sun-tressed Iris waves for him her urns of fragrant fire:
But we have let a holier gem our lowly home illume; —
The flower of love our lattice lights with undecaying bloom.

I loved my Art. I loved it when the tide
Was sweeping back my hopes upon the sand;
When I had missed the hollow of God's hand
Held over me, and there was none to guide.
I set my face towards it, raising high
My arm in token that I would be true
To all great motives, though I sorely knew
That there was one star wanting in my sky.
Touching the chords of many harmonies,
I needed one to make them all complete.
I heard it sound like thunder-gathered seas,
What time my soul knelt at my lady's feet.

CORNELIAN CHERRY-TREE .

Lady! my love for thee
Is like the cornel-tree; —
Once taken root, though slow, its growth is sure:
It is no passion-flower,
Lasting one summer-hour; —
While my heart lives — that feeling will endure.

TULIP .

Yes! by those eyes of azure glory,
Shedding their star-like smiles on me;
Yes! by that cheek, changing and glowing,
Warm as the plumage of yon bright lory,
By those ringlets so richly flowing,
Dearest, I love but thee!

Yes! by that foot of fairy fleetness,
Springing ever so light and free,