Page:Poems Bell.djvu/22

SIGNS OF SPRING.

Come, listen to the robin.
 As he gaily swings to and fro
On a bough of the old gray poplar,
 Singing merrily, now high, now low.
See how the sweet little jonquils,
 Just lifting their heads from the ground,
Having been asleep all the winter,
 Are now timidly gazing around,
Saying: "we're fearful still, that old winter
 May not be all gone yet,
And if we're not very careful
 A nipping we'll be sure to get."
The birds and the flowers and the children
 With joy hail the coming of spring,
For the trees their embryo verdure
 Soon forth to the light will bring

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MY DEAR, DEAD LOVE.

O dearest, sweetest, best!
 My own first love!
Look down with tender
 Pitying eyes from up Above!
I am so tired with this
 Weary, endless strife.
The days and days of toil
 Of this—called life!
This life—a living death,
 With agony in every breath.
Stretch out thy hand and touch me,
 You from that far land!

I stretch my arms about me
 But they empty fall,
Darkness is all around
 Me, like a pall!
Send me some word,
 Some message, O my love,
One little message
 Only from Above!
I speak, you answer not.
 So far away!
I call, you cannot hear
 One word I say,
The only time you ever
 Turned unwilling ear;
The only time I ever called
 You would not hear!

Yes; I am weary, darling
 With the strife.
And long so much to hear you say:
 "My love, my life, my wife!"

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