Volume I Part 99 (1/2)

Art hath naught of tone or cadence That can work with such a spell In the soul's mysterious fountains, Whence the tears of rapture well, As that melody of nature, That subdued, subduing strain Which is played upon the s.h.i.+ngles By the patter of the rain.

Coates Kinney [1826-1904]

ALONE BY THE HEARTH

Here, in my snug little fire-lit chamber, Sit I alone: And, as I gaze in the coals, I remember Days long agone.

Saddening it is when the night has descended, Thus to sit here, Pensively musing on episodes ended Many a year.

Still in my visions a golden-haired glory Flits to and fro; She whom I loved--but 'tis just the old story: Dead, long ago.

'Tis but a wraith of love; yet I linger (Thus pa.s.sion errs), Foolishly kissing the ring on my finger-- Once it was hers.

Nothing has changed since her spirit departed, Here, in this room Save I, who, weary, and half broken-hearted, Sit in the gloom.

Loud 'gainst the window the winter rain dashes, Dreary and cold; Over the floor the red fire-light flashes Just as of old.

Just as of old--but the embers are scattered, Whose ruddy blaze Flashed o'er the floor where the fairy feet pattered In other days!

Then, her dear voice, like a silver chime ringing, Melted away; Often these walls have re-echoed her singing, Now hushed for aye!

Why should love bring naught but sorrow, I wonder?

Everything dies!

Time and death, sooner or later, must sunder Holiest ties.

Years have rolled by; I am wiser and older-- Wiser, but yet Not till my heart and its feelings grow colder, Can I forget.

So, in my snug little fire-lit chamber, Sit I alone; And, as I gaze in the coals, I remember Days long agone!

George Arnold [1834-1865]

THE OLD MAN DREAMS

Oh for one hour of youthful joy!

Give back my twentieth spring!

I'd rather laugh, a bright-haired boy, Than reign, a gray-beard king.

Off with the spoils of wrinkled age!

Away with Learning's crown!

Tear out life's Wisdom-written page, And dash its trophies down!

One moment let my life-blood stream From boyhood's fount of flame!

Give me one giddy, reeling dream Of life all love and fame!

My listening angel heard the prayer, And, calmly smiling, said, ”If I but touch thy silvered hair, Thy hasty wish hath sped.