Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, INFELICE, by BELLE RICHARDSON HARRISON


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

INFELICE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: They say the skies are tinted blue
Last Line: Ah, woe is me!
Subject(s): Death - Children; Grief; Mothers; Death - Babies; Sorrow; Sadness


THEY say the skies are tinted blue,
And flecked with clouds of lovely hue;
That flowers of every color blow
From brilliant shades to purest snow;
That butterflies dip here and there,
Like fairies fitting through the air;
A winding streamlet flows to meet
The velvet sward beneath my feet;

The dazzling orb is screened from view
By grateful shade of emerald hue;
A sparkling rainbow spans the sky,
Its varied colors please the eye.
All nature glows with beauties rare;
No other charms with hers compare.
She deftly points, with artist hand,
Bright pictures to adorn the land.

Alas for me! a little mound,
With ivy crowned, in hallowed ground;
A shrouded form, a pallid face
That erst was full of childish grace,
With floating curls on sunny head,
Now resting with the silent dead—
These things I see, through mist of tears
That deepens with the coming years—
Ah, woe is me!

They dimpled hands across the breast
Are folded peacefully to rest.
The fringèd lids o'er eyes of blue,
And cherub lips of coral hue,
Like chiseled marble—cold and white—
Shut out all nature from my sight.
These things I see, through mist of tears
That deepens with the coming years—
Ah, woe is me!

They say the bird with velvet throat
Delights to trill a blithesome note;
That maiden fair with matin lay
Trips joyfully along her way;
That merry sleigh-bells chiming say,
"Away with care, the world is gay!"
And light hearts laugh with childish glee
At sound of lively minstrelsy;

That raindrops patter on the pane,
In tinkling, musical refrain;
That purling streams in rhythmic flow
Forever on their journey go;
Sweet echo catches every strain
And gives the music back again,
While harmony unites the spheres,
As on they roll through endless years.

Alas for me! I strain mine ear
For music I no longer hear.
The pattering steps of twinkling feet,
And silv'ry laughter, clear and sweet!
The prattle of a baby tongue,
As sweet as song by seraph sung!
No other music charms mine ear,
No other sounds I care to hear.
Ah, woe is me!

Alas for me! I strain mine ear
For music I no longer hear.
A lisping voice that said "Good-night,
God keep mamma till morning light."
The marrow brings no baby kiss
To fill an aching heart with bliss;
No other music charms mine ear,
No other sounds I care to hear.
Ah, woe is me!





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