_
Yet dreams of conquering greater prize for her
Roused his wild spirit with a glittering spur.
Yet dreams of conquering greater prize for her
Roused his wild spirit with a glittering spur.
George Lathrop - Dreams and Days
"--said the star to its light.
"THE SUNSHINE OF THINE EYES"
The sunshine of thine eyes,
(O still, celestial beam! )
Whatever it touches it fills
With the life of its lambent gleam.
The sunshine of thine eyes,
O let it fall on me!
Though I be but a mote of the air,
I could turn to gold for thee!
JESSAMINE
Here stands the great tree still, with broad bent head;
Its wide arms grown aweary, yet outspread
With their old blessing. But wan memory weaves
Strange garlands, now, amongst the darkening leaves.
_And the moon hangs low in the elm_.
Beneath these glimmering arches Jessamine
Walked with her lover long ago; and in
The leaf-dimmed light he questioned, and she spoke;
Then on them both, supreme, love's radiance broke.
_And the moon hangs low in the elm_.
Sweet Jessamine we called her; for she shone
Like blossoms that in sun and shade have grown,
Gathering from each alike a perfect white,
Whose rich bloom breaks opaque through darkest night.
_And the moon hangs low in the elm_.
For this her sweetness Walt, her lover, sought
To win her; wooed her here, his heart o'er fraught
With fragrance of her being; and gained his plea.
So "We will wed," they said, "beneath this tree. "
_And the moon hangs low in the elm.
_
Yet dreams of conquering greater prize for her
Roused his wild spirit with a glittering spur.
Eager for wealth, far, far from home he sailed;
And life paused;--while she watched joy vanish, veiled.
_And the moon hangs low in the elm. _
Ah, better at the elm-tree's sunbrowned feet
If he had been content to let life fleet
Its wonted way! --lord of his little farm,
In zest of joys or cares unmixed with harm.
_And the moon hangs low in the elm. _
For, as against a snarling sea one steers,
He battled vainly with the surging years;
While ever Jessamine must watch and pine,
Her vision bounded by the bleak sea-line.
_And the moon hangs low in the elm. _
Then silence fell; and all the neighbors said
That Walt had married, faithless, or was dead:
Unmoved in constancy, her tryst she kept,
Each night beneath the tree, ere sorrow slept.
_And the moon hangs low in the elm. _
So, circling years went by, till in her face
Slow melancholy wrought a mingled grace,
Of early joy with suffering's hard alloy--
Refined and rare, no doom could e'er destroy.
_And the moon hangs low in the elm. _
Sometimes at twilight, when sweet Jessamine
Slow-footed, weary-eyed, passed by to win
The elm, we smiled for pity of her, and mused
On love that so could live, with love refused.
_And the moon hangs low in the elm. _
And none could hope for her. But she had grown
Too high in love, for hope.
"THE SUNSHINE OF THINE EYES"
The sunshine of thine eyes,
(O still, celestial beam! )
Whatever it touches it fills
With the life of its lambent gleam.
The sunshine of thine eyes,
O let it fall on me!
Though I be but a mote of the air,
I could turn to gold for thee!
JESSAMINE
Here stands the great tree still, with broad bent head;
Its wide arms grown aweary, yet outspread
With their old blessing. But wan memory weaves
Strange garlands, now, amongst the darkening leaves.
_And the moon hangs low in the elm_.
Beneath these glimmering arches Jessamine
Walked with her lover long ago; and in
The leaf-dimmed light he questioned, and she spoke;
Then on them both, supreme, love's radiance broke.
_And the moon hangs low in the elm_.
Sweet Jessamine we called her; for she shone
Like blossoms that in sun and shade have grown,
Gathering from each alike a perfect white,
Whose rich bloom breaks opaque through darkest night.
_And the moon hangs low in the elm_.
For this her sweetness Walt, her lover, sought
To win her; wooed her here, his heart o'er fraught
With fragrance of her being; and gained his plea.
So "We will wed," they said, "beneath this tree. "
_And the moon hangs low in the elm.
_
Yet dreams of conquering greater prize for her
Roused his wild spirit with a glittering spur.
Eager for wealth, far, far from home he sailed;
And life paused;--while she watched joy vanish, veiled.
_And the moon hangs low in the elm. _
Ah, better at the elm-tree's sunbrowned feet
If he had been content to let life fleet
Its wonted way! --lord of his little farm,
In zest of joys or cares unmixed with harm.
_And the moon hangs low in the elm. _
For, as against a snarling sea one steers,
He battled vainly with the surging years;
While ever Jessamine must watch and pine,
Her vision bounded by the bleak sea-line.
_And the moon hangs low in the elm. _
Then silence fell; and all the neighbors said
That Walt had married, faithless, or was dead:
Unmoved in constancy, her tryst she kept,
Each night beneath the tree, ere sorrow slept.
_And the moon hangs low in the elm. _
So, circling years went by, till in her face
Slow melancholy wrought a mingled grace,
Of early joy with suffering's hard alloy--
Refined and rare, no doom could e'er destroy.
_And the moon hangs low in the elm. _
Sometimes at twilight, when sweet Jessamine
Slow-footed, weary-eyed, passed by to win
The elm, we smiled for pity of her, and mused
On love that so could live, with love refused.
_And the moon hangs low in the elm. _
And none could hope for her. But she had grown
Too high in love, for hope.
