The Pamphlet Collection of Sir Robert Stout: Volume 40
A Reverie
A Reverie.
Ah, tranquilly sleeping in nature's soft keeping,
The hot sun above,
This seed of our sowing is evermore growing
A pledge to our love.
Will the plentiful showers, and long summer hours
Bring burdens of fruit?
Or will winter winds chill, and bitter frosts kill
This stem at its root?
Will buds and bright blossoms be hopes in our bosoms,
And light to our life?
Or will sin with its morrow of anger and sorrow,
Darken with strife?
The hours of light laughter and thought that comes after,
Shall surely be thine,
But deeds of thy doings, and loves of thy wooing,
Oh, who shall divine?
Ah, infantine beauty, quite dreamless of duty,
And free of all care,
No vows or entreating—thy little heart beating
Unconciously there!
Still! peacefully slumber, for soon shalt thou number
The days of unrest,
When joy shall seem sadness, and mirth be but madness,
And sleep shall seem best.
Oh, seed-time and reaping, oh, bright hopes and weeping—
Twin comrades alway,
The joy that gives warning, the night chasing morning,
The dark-seeking day.
I felt that
she listened, and looking, saw glistened
Her eyes with big tears.
I drew myself nearer, spoke softly to cheer her,
And scatter her fears;
Though grief come unbidden, and years are still hidden,
We act as we can;
Our veriest blunders, the sorrow that sunders,
Are part of the Plan.
We have loved, we are loving, and time is but proving
The strength of our tie;
If sorrow comes nearer love's eyes see the clearer—
Ah, love cannot die.
Yes, love is still stronger than all things that wrong her,
And evermore sways,
Her steps are the ages, her footprints the sages,
That blazen her ways.
The air is all trembling, dark clouds are assembling,
The torrents will come;
Ah, dearest and nearest, through tears we see clearest,
Come quick, let us home.