Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE BURIED FLOWER, by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: In the silence of my chamber Last Line: Breaks o'er deathless paradise. Alternate Author Name(s): Bon Gaultier (with Theodore Martin) Subject(s): Flowers; Gardens & Gardening; Love; Mourning; Night; Bereavement; Bedtime | ||||||||
I IN the silence of my chamber, When the night is still and deep, And the drowsy heave of ocean Mutters in its charmed sleep, II Oft I hear the angel voices That have thrilled me long ago, -- Voices of my lost companions, Lying deep beneath the snow. III O, the garden I remember, In the gay and sunny spring, When our laughter made the thickets And the arching alleys ring! IV O the merry burst of gladness! O the soft and tender tone! O the whisper never uttered Save to one fond ear alone! V O the light of life that sparkled In those bright and bounteous eyes! O the blush of happy beauty, Tell-tale of the heart's surprise! VI O the radiant light that girdled Field and forest, land and sea, When we all were young together, And the earth was new to me! VII Where are now the flowers we tended? Withered, broken, branch and stem; Where are now the hopes we cherished? Scattered to the winds with them. VIII For ye, too, were flowers, ye dear ones! Nursed in hope and reared in love, Looking fondly ever upward To the clear blue heaven above. IX Smiling on the sun that cheered us, Rising lightly from the rain, Never folding up your freshness Save to give it forth again: X Never shaken, save by accents From a tongue that was not free, As the modest blossom trembles At the wooing of the bee. XI O! 'tis sad to lie and reckon All the days of faded youth, All the vows that we believed in. All the words we spoke in truth. XII Severed -- were it severed only By an idle thought of strife, Such as time may knit together; Not the broken chord of life! XIII O my heart! that once so truly Kept another's time and tune, Heart, that kindled in the morning, Look around thee in the noon! XIV Where are they who gave the impulse To thy earliest thought and flow? Look across the ruined garden -- All are withered, dropped, or low! XV Seek the birthplace of the Lily, Dearer to the boyish dream Than the golden cups of Eden, Floating on its slumberous stream; XVI Never more shalt thou behold her -- She, the noblest, fairest, best: She that rose in fullest beauty, Like a queen, above the rest. XVII Only still I keep her image As a thought that cannot die; He who raised the shade of Helen Had no greater power than I. XVIII O! I fling my spirit backward, And I pass o'er years of pain; All I loved is rising round me, All the lost returns again. XIX Blow, for ever blow, ye breezes, Warmly as ye did before! Bloom again, ye happy gardens, With the radiant tints of yore! XX Warble out in spray and thicket, All ye choristers unseen; Let the leafy woodland echo With an anthem to its queen! XXI Lo! she cometh in her beauty, Stately with a Juno grace, Raven locks, Madonna-braided O'er her sweet and blushing face: XXII Eyes of deepest violet, beaming With the love that knows not shame -- Lips, that thrill my inmost being, With the utterance of a name. XXIII And I bend the knee before her, As a captive ought to bow, -- Pray thee, listen to my pleading, Sovereign of my soul art thou! XXIV O my dear and gentle lady! Let me show thee all my pain, Ere the words that late were prisoned Sink into my heart again. XXV Love, they say, is very fearful Ere its curtain be withdrawn, Trembling at the thought of error As the shadows scare the fawn. XXVI Love hath bound me to thee, lady! Since the well-remembered day When I first beheld thee coming In the light of lustrous May. XXVII Not a word I dared to utter -- More than he who, long ago, Saw the heavenly shapes descending Over Ida's slopes of snow; XXVIII When a low and solemn music Floated through the listening grove, And the throstle's song was silenced, And the doling of the dove: XXIX When immortal beauty opened All its charms to mortal sight, And the awe of worship blended With the throbbing of delight. XXX As the shepherd stood before them Trembling in the Phrygian dell, Even so my soul and being Owned the magic of the spell; XXXI And I watched thee ever fondly, Watched thee, dearest! from afar, With the mute and humble homage Of the Indian to a star. XXXII Thou wert still the lady Flora In her morning garb of bloom; Where thou wert was light and glory, Where thou wert not, dearth and gloom. XXXIII So for many a day I followed, For a long and weary while, Ere my heart rose up to bless thee For the yielding of a smile, -- XXXIV Ere thy words were few and broken As they answered back to mine, Ere my lips had power to thank thee For the gift vouchsafed by thine. XXXV Then a mighty gush of passion Through my inmost being ran; Then my older life was ended, And a dearer course began. XXXVI Dearer! -- O! I cannot tell thee What a load was swept away, What a world of doubt and darkness Faded in the dawning day! XXXVII All my error, all my weakness, All my vain delusions fled; Hope again revived, and gladness Waved its wings above my head. XXXVIII Like the wanderer of the desert, When, across the dreary sand, Breathes the perfume from the thickets Bordering on the promised land: XXXIX When afar he sees the palm-trees Cresting o'er the lonely well, When he hears the pleasant tinkle Of the distant camel's bell: XL So a fresh and glad emotion Rose within my swelling breast, And I hurried swiftly onwards To the haven of my rest. XLI Thou wert there with word and welcome, With thy smile so purely sweet; And I laid my heart before thee, Laid it, darling! at thy feet. -- XLII O ye words that sound so hollow As I now recall your tone! What are ye but empty echoes Of a passion crushed and gone? XLIII Wherefore should I seek to kindle Light, when all around is gloom? Wherefore should I raise a phantom O'er the dark and silent tomb? XLIV Early wert thou taken, Mary! In thy fair and glorious prime, Ere the bees had ceased to murmur Through the umbrage of the lime. XLV Buds were blowing, waters flowing, Birds were singing on the tree, Everything was bright and glowing, When the angels came for thee. XLVI Death had laid aside his terror, And he found thee calm and mild, Lying in thy robes of whiteness, Like a pure and stainless child. XLVII Hardly had the mountain-violet Spread its blossoms on the sod, Ere they laid the turf above thee, And thy spirit rose to God. XLVIII Early wert thou taken, Mary! And I know 'tis vain to weep -- Tears of mine can never wake thee From thy sad and silent sleep. XLIX O away! my thoughts are earthward! Not asleep, my love, art thou! Dwelling in the land of glory With the saints and angels now. L Brighter, fairer far than living, With no trace of woe or pain, Robed in everlasting beauty, Shall I see thee once again, LI By the light that never fadeth, Underneath eternal skies, When the dawn of resurrection Breaks o'er deathless Paradise. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BREATH OF NIGHT by RANDALL JARRELL HOODED NIGHT by ROBINSON JEFFERS NIGHT WITHOUT SLEEP by ROBINSON JEFFERS WORKING OUTSIDE AT NIGHT by DENIS JOHNSON POEM TO TAKE BACK THE NIGHT by JUNE JORDAN COOL DARK ODE by DONALD JUSTICE POEM TO BE READ AT 3 A.M by DONALD JUSTICE ROUND ABOUT MIDNIGHT by BOB KAUFMAN BOTHWELL: PART 4 by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |
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