Читать книгу Poems - Julia C. R. Dorr - Страница 16

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Softly the gold has faded from the sky, Slowly the stars have gathered one by one, Calmly the crescent moon mounts up on high, And the long day is done.

With quiet heart my garden-walks I tread, Feeling the beauty that I cannot see; Beauty and fragrance all around me shed By flower, and shrub, and tree.

Often I linger where the roses pour Exquisite odors from each glowing cup; Or where the violet, brimmed with sweetness o’er, Lifts its small chalice up.

With fragrant breath the lilies woo me now, And softly speaks the sweet-voiced mignonette, While heliotropes, with meekly lifted brow, Say to me, “Go not yet.”

So for awhile I linger, but not long. High in the heavens rideth fiery Mars, Careering proudly ’mid the glorious throng, Brightest of all the stars.

But softly gleaming through the curtain’s fold, The home-star beams with more alluring ray, And, as a star led sage and seer of old, So it directs my way;

And leads me in where my young children lie, Rosy and beautiful in tranquil rest; The seal of sleep is on each fast-shut eye, Heaven’s peace within each breast.

I bring them gifts. Not frankincense nor myrrh— Gifts the adoring Magi humbly brought The young child, cradled in the arms of her Blest beyond mortal thought;

But love—the love that fills my mother-heart With a sweet rapture oft akin to pain; Such yearning love as bids the tear-drops start And fall like summer rain.

And faith—that dares, for their dear sakes, to climb Boldly, where once it would have feared to go, And calmly standing upon heights sublime, Fears not the storm below.

And prayer! O God! unto thy throne I come, Bringing my darlings—but I cannot speak. With love and awe oppressed, my lips are dumb: Grant what my heart would seek!