An Answer to a Valentine
My true love sent me a valentine
All on a winter's day,
And suddenly the cold gray skies
Grew soft and warm as
May!
The snowflakes changed to apple blooms,
A
pink-white fluttering crowd,
And on the swaying maple boughs
The robins sang aloud.
For moaning wintry winds, I
heard
The music sweet and low
Of morning-glory
trumpets
Through which the soft airs blow.
O love of
mine, my Valentine!
This is no winter day---
For Love
rules all the calendars,
And Love knows only May!
Once!
Once in your sight,
As May buds swell in the sun's warm
light,
So grew her soul,
Yielding itself to your sweet
control.
Once if you spoke,
Echoing strains in her
heart awoke,
Sending a thrill
All through its chambers
sweet and still.
Once if you said,
"Sweet, with
Love's garland I crown your head,"
Ah! how the rose
Flooded her forehead's pale repose!
Once if your
lip
Dared the pure sweetness of hers to sip,
Softly
and meek
Dark lashes drooped on a white rose cheek!
Once if your name
Some one but whispered, a sudden
flame
Burned on her cheek,
Telling a story she would
not speak!
You do but wait
At a sepulchre's sealed
gate!
Her love is dead,
Bound hand and foot in its
narrow bed.
Why did it die?
Ask of your soul the
reason why!
Question it well,
And surely the secret it
will tell.
But if your heart
Ever again plays the
lover's part,
Let this truth be
Blent with the solemn
mystery:
Pure flame aspires;
Downward flow not the
altar fires;
And skylarks soar
Up where the
earth-mists vex no more.
Now loose your hold
From
her white garment's spotless fold,
And let her pass---
While both hearts murmur, "Alas! alas!"
The Name
I know not by what name to call thee, thou
Who reignest
supreme, sole sovereign of my heart!
Thou who the
lode-star of my being art,
Thou before whom my soul delights to bow!
What shall I call thee? Teach me some dear name
Better
than all the rest, that I may pour
All that the years have
taught me of love's lore
In one fond word. "Lover?" But that's too tame,
And "Friend" 's too cold, though thou art both to me.
Art thou my King? Kings sit enthroned afar,
And crowns less meet for love than reverence are,
While both my heart gives joyfully to thee.
Art
thou---but, ah! I'll cease the idle quest:
I cannot tell
what name befits thee best!
Thou and I
April days are over!
O my gay young lover,
Forth we fare together
In the soft May weather;
Forth we wander, hand in hand,
Seeking an
enchanted land
Underneath a smiling sky,
So
blithely---thou and I!
Soft spring days are over!
O my ardent lover,
Many a hill together,
In the July weather,
Climb we when the days
are long
And the summer heats are strong,
And the harvest wains go by,
So bravely---thou and I!
July days are over!
O
my faithful lover,
Side by side together
In the August weather,
When
the swift, wild storms befall us,
And the fiery darts appall us,
Wait we
till the clouds sweep by,
And stars shine---thou and I!
Summer days are over!
O my one true lover,
Sit we now alone
together
In the early autumn weather!
From our nest the birds have flown
To fair dreamlands of their own,
And we see the days go by,
In silence---thou and I!
Storm and stress are
over!
O my friend and lover,
Closer now we lean together
In the
Indian-summer weather;
See the bright leaves falling, falling,
Hear the
low winds calling, calling,
Glad to let the world go by
Unheeding---thou and I!
Winter days are over!
O my life-long lover,
Rest we now in peace together
Out of reach of
changeful weather!
Not a sound can mar our sleeping---
Breath of
laughter, or of weeping,
May not reach us where we lie
Uncaring---thou and I!