Читать книгу Canadian Battlefields, and Other Poems - J. R. Wilkinson - Страница 12

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I want her woman’s kisses,

I want her love and truth

And e’er as kind and gentle

As in the days of youth.

I want her e’er beside me,

Not enslaved, but free;

A help in time of trouble,

And a comfort unto me.

We’d share life’s joys together,

Of its ills bear equal part;

In storm, or sunny weather,

Trust each other’s faithful heart.

I’d have her loving counsel

When perplexed with care;

When the clouds are lowering,

And threatening everywhere.

I’d hear her happy laughter

Rippling light and gay;

And list her sweet voice singing

Tender songs, that drive away

The petty irritations

That fret life’s every day,

And if not quickly banished

Turn the bluest skies to gray.

I want her with the children

To guard their tender feet;

To soothe and ever bless them

With her presence fair and sweet.

’Tis mother’s subtle influence

That makes or mars us all:

By her early lessons given

We either rise or fall.

And when the skies are smiling

O’er all the summer land,

And nature is enraptured,

I’d clasp her gentle hand,

And list the songs that greet us,

Hear the wind’s plaint and sigh,

Wooing the summer’s beauty

As it softly treadeth by.

I’d look when twilight falleth

On the world in dreamy rest,

And golden rays still linger

In glory in the west.

In that rapt quiet hour

We’d watch the pale moon rise,

And in the tender silence

Dream of fadeless Paradise.

When the shadow-land I enter,

And fails life’s fleeting breath,

I’d cross the stream beside her,

The stream that we call death.

Life’s years of light and shadow,

Passed in sweet felicity,

Should be but the beginning

Of our day, eternity.