A gap of sunlight in the storm;
A blossom ere the spring;
Immortal whispering;
A spirit manifest through form
Which we can touch and kiss,—
To life such beauty is.
Ah! who can doubt, though he may doubt
Our solid earth will run
A future round the sun,
That gentle impulse given out
Can never fail or die,
But throbs eternally!
VII. HER SHADOW.
At matin time where creepers interlace
We sauntered slowly, for we loved the place,
And talked of passing things; I, pleased to trace
Through leafy mimicry the true leaves made,
The stateliness and beauty of her shade;
A wavering of strange purples dimly seen,
It gloomed the daisy’s light, the kingcup’s sheen,
And drank up sunshine from the vital green.
That silent shadow moving on the grass
Struck me with terror it should ever pass
And be blank nothing in the coming years
Where, in the dreadful shadow of my fears,
Her shrouded form I saw through blurring tears,
My Darling’s shrouded form in beauty’s bloom
Born with funereal sadness to her tomb.
“What idle dreaming,” I abruptly cried:
My Lady turned, half startled, at my side,
And looked inquiry: I, through shame or pride,
Bantered the words as mockery of sense,
Mere aimless freak of fostered indolence.
She did not urge me; gentle, wise, and kind!
But clasped my hand and talked: her beaming mind
Arrayed in brightness all it touched. Behind,
Her shadow fell forgot, as she and I
Went homeward musing, smiling at the sky.
Thro’ pastures and thro’ fields where corn grew strong;
By cottage nests that could not harbour wrong;