Volume Ii Part 145 (2/2)

I can see it all now,--the slantwise rain Of light through the leaves, The sundown's blaze on her window-pane, The bloom of her roses under the eaves.

Just the same as a month before,-- The house and the trees, The barn's brown gable, the vine by the door,-- Nothing changed but the hives of bees.

Before them, under the garden wall, Forward and back, Went drearily singing the ch.o.r.e-girl small, Draping each hive with a shred of black.

Trembling, I listened: the summer sun Had the chill of snow; For I knew she was telling the bees of one Gone on the journey we all must go!

Then I said to myself, ”My Mary weeps For the dead to-day: Haply her blind old grandsire sleeps The fret and the pain of his age away.”

But her dog whined low; on the doorway sill With his cane to his chin, The old man sat; and the ch.o.r.e-girl still Sung to the bees stealing out and in.

And the song she was singing ever since In my ears sounds on:-- ”Stay at home, pretty bees, fly not hence!

Mistress Mary is dead and gone!”

John Greenleaf Whittier [1807-1892]

A TRYST

I will not break the tryst, my dear, That we have kept so long, Though winter and its snows are here, And I've no heart for song.

You went into the voiceless night; Your path led far away.

Did you forget me, Heart's Delight, As night forgets the day?

Sometimes I think that you would speak If still you held me dear; But s.p.a.ce is vast, and I am weak-- Perchance I do not hear.

Surely, howe'er remote the star Your wandering feet may tread, When I shall pa.s.s the sundering bar Our souls must still be wed.

Louise Chandler Moulton [1835-1908]

LOVE'S RESURRECTION DAY

Round among the quiet graves, When the sun was low, Love went grieving,--Love who saves: Did the sleepers know?

At his touch the flowers awoke, At his tender call Birds into sweet singing broke, And it did befall

From the blooming, bursting sod All Love's dead arose, And went flying up to G.o.d By a way Love knows.

Louise Chandler Moulton [1835-1908]

HEAVEN

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