Читать книгу A Few More Verses - Coolidge Susan - Страница 30

I DREAMED we sat within a shaded place,

Where mournful waters fell, and no sun shone;

And suddenly, a smile upon his face,

There came to us a winged, mysterious one,

And said, with pitying eyes: “O mourning souls, arise!

“Take up your travelling staves, your sandals lace,

And journey to the Northland and the snow,

Where wild and leaping Borealis trace

Fantastic, glistening dances to and fro;

Where suns at midnight beam, to fright the sleeper’s dream.

“There, in the icy, solitary waste,

God’s goodness grants this boon, – that thou shalt see,

And hold communion for a little space

With that dear child so lately gone from thee.

Arise, and haste away; God may not let her stay.”

So we arose, and quickly we went forth;

How could we slight such all undreamed-of boon?

And when we reached the ultimate far North —

All in a hush of frozen afternoon,

Lit by a dim sun-ray, liker to night than day —

There, o’er the white bare feld we saw her come,

Our little maid, in the dear guise we knew,

With the same look she used to wear at home,

The same sweet eyes of deepest, dark-fringed blue;

Her steps they made no sound upon the icy ground.

She kissed us gently, and she stood and smiled,

While close we clasped and questioned her, and strove

To win some hint or answer from the child

That should appease the hunger of our love,

Something to soothe the pain when she must go again.

And was she happy, happier than of old?

Did heaven fulfil its promises of bliss?

And had she seen our other dead, and told

The story of that loving faithfulness