Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, AT COLUMBINE'S WINDOW, by THEODOSIA (PICKERING) GARRISON


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

AT COLUMBINE'S WINDOW, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: The moonlight to her window-sill
Last Line: The kiss of columbine.
Alternate Author Name(s): Faulks, Frederick J., Mrs.
Subject(s): Kisses


THE moonlight to her window-sill
Clung like a tendrilled vine
That trembles though the wind is still,
And through the night's decline,
Stole Pierrot by the blossomed hedge,
To sing to Columbine.

Beneath her lattice, where the rose
Reached up to find her hand,
He waited in her garden close,
As some white ghost might stand;
The tinkle of his mandolin
Was wave on shell-strewn sand.

His voice was like a bird that beat
Against her latticed pane;
His mandolin held all the sweet
Insistence of the rain
That whispers to the drooping rose
To rise and bloom again.

"Gold o' the moon, you are all mine, all mine,
The while I touch the hair of Columbine!
Stars o' the sky, you are all mine, all mine,
The while I watch the eyes of Columbine!

Rose o' the world, you are all mine, all mine,
The while I taste the lips of Columbine!
But while, sweetheart, you sleep and these deny,
Nor gold nor stars nor any rose have I."

The curtain at her window-sill
Quivered and stirred apace,
As one who felt her fingers thrill;
And through the narrow space
The voice of Columbine fell down
Like rose leaves on his face.

"Gold o' the moon, for him how can it be
Who stands within its glow, and will not see?
Stars o' the sky, how can he find them fair
Who will not lift his eyes to seek them there?
Rose o' the world, how may he know its power
Who will not dare the thorn to wear the flower?"

The moonlight on her window-sill
Bent low to lift him high;
The roses of their tender will
Were hands to help him by;
The tender arms of Columbine
Were wings that he might fly.

* * *

The sudden sun danced up the lawn,
The wind came keen and fine;
One singing through the hedge has gone
Against the sunrise line;
And on his lips, like some red rose,
The kiss of Columbine.





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