THE HERMIT THRUSH
O wonderful! How liquid clear
The molten gold of that ethereal tone,
Floating and falling through the wood alone,
A hermit-hymn poured out for God to hear!
O holy, holy, holy! Hyaline,
Long light, low light, glory of eventide!
Love far away, far up,—up,—love divine!
Little love, too, for ever, ever near,
Warm love, earth love, tender love of mine,
In the leafy dark where you hide,
You are mine,—mine,—mine!
Ah, my beloved, do you feel with me
The hidden virtue of that melody,
The rapture and the purity of love,
The heavenly joy that can not find the word?
Then, while we wait again to hear the bird,
Come very near to me, and do not move,—
Now, hermit of the woodland, fill anew
The cool, green cup of air with harmony,
And we will drink the wine of love with you.
FIRE-FLY CITY
Like a long arrow through the dark the train
is darting,
Bearing me far away, after a perfect day of
love's delight:
Wakeful with all the sad-sweet memories of
parting,
I lift the narrow window-shade and look out
on the night.
Lonely the land unknown, and like a river flow-
ing,
Forest and field and hill are gliding backward
still athwart my dream;
Till in that country strange, and ever stranger
growing,
A magic city full of lights begins to glow and
gleam.
Wide through the landscape dim the lamps are lit
in millions;
Long avenues unfold clear-shining lines of gold
across the green;
Clusters and rings of light, and luminous pa-
vilions,—
Oh, who will tell the city's name, and what
these wonders mean?
Why do they beckon me, and what have they to
show me?
Crowds in the blazing street, mirth where the
feasters meet, kisses and wine:
Many to laugh with me, but never one to know
me:
A cityful of stranger-hearts and none to beat
with mine!
Look how the glittering lines are wavering and
lifting,—
Softly the breeze of night, scatters the vision
bright: and, passing fair,
Over the meadow-grass and through the forest
drifting,
The Fire-Fly City of the Dark is lost in empty
air!
Girl of the golden eyes, to you my heart is
turning:
Sleep in your quiet room, while through the
midnight gloom my train is whirled.
Clear in your dreams of me the light of love is
burning,—
The only never failing light in all the phantom
world.