I TREASURE in secret some long, fine hair Of tenderest brown, but so inwardly golden I half used to fancy the sunshine there, So shy, so shifting, so waywardly rare, Was only caught for the moment and holden While I could say Dearest! and kiss it, and then In pity let go to the summer again. I twisted this magic in gossamer strings Over a wind-harp's Delphian hollow; Then called to the idle breeze that swings All day in the pine-tops, and clings, and sings Mid the musical leaves, and said, "O, follow The will of those tears that deepen my words, And fly to my window to waken these chords." So they trembled to life, and, doubtfully Feeling their way to my sense, sang, "Say whether They sit all day by the greenwood tree, The lover and loved, as it wont to be, When we --" But grief conquered, and all together They swelled such weird murmur as haunts a shore Of some planet dispeopled, -- "Nevermore!" Then from deep in the past, as seemed to me, The strings gathered sorrow and sang forsaken, "One lover still waits 'neath the greenwood tree, But 't is dark," and they shuddered, "where lieth she Dark and cold! Forever must one be taken?" But I groaned, "O harp of all ruth bereft, This Scripture is sadder, -- 'the other left'!" There murmured, as if one strove to speak, And tears came instead; then the sad tones wandered And faltered among the uncertain chords In a troubled doubt between sorrow and words; At last with themselves they questioned and pondered, "Hereafter? -- who knoweth?" and so they sighed Down the long steps that lead to silence and died. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE DEATH OF MR. WILLIAM HERVEY by ABRAHAM COWLEY FANCIES AT NAVESINK: 6 by WALT WHITMAN NONUMQUE PREMATUR IN ANNUM by JOHN BYROM THE POWER OF RUSSIA by THOMAS CAMPBELL A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 19 by THOMAS CAMPION THE FARMER'S DAUGHTER by ALICE CARY |