324 CATHERINE A. W A RFIELD. [1840-50. THE SAME CALM BROW. NEVER, AS I HAVE LOVED THEE. She met me with the same cahn brow Never, as I have loved thee, She bore in other years ; Shalt thou be loved again ; I marveled then, I marvel now, With affections deep, unchanging, Where slept her blinding tears. Through time, through grief, through pain. She spoke not once of that lost star, That perished from her sky : None shall e'er watch above thee Her words were all of matters far With such a tender care ; From that great agony ! With such unwearied vigils, Such patient hope and prayer ! She marked my dim and tearful eyes, My broken speech she heard; Never, as I have known thee. And dark and bitter memories Shalt thou again be known ; Within her heart were stirred. I studied every feature, I pondered every tone ; A sudden shudder, quick and sharp, Shook her with quiverings. I weighed each sacred feeling, As visibly as when a harp That made thy heart its shrine ; Is swept o'er all its strings. I read my precious volume. Warily, line by line ! An ashen pallor vailed her cheek ; Cold damps stood on her brow ; Never, as I have trusted. And when at last she strove to speak. Shalt thou be trusted more ; Her words were whispered low ; The world hath dark suspicions. Wrung from its bitter core. But soon that firm, undaunted will. That never strove in vain. Thy frank and joyous bearing, Said to the inward storm, " Be still !" Thy glad and open smile, And she was calm again. Shall seem, to hollow spirits. The mark of perfect guile. Calm ! Aye, with that despair which knows Yet, if the love I gave thee. The vanity of tears. And if the faith divine She patiently awaits the close Have added but a moment Of her appointed years; To happiness of thine. Thankful alike, when breaks the dawn. I shall not all regret them, Or sunlight fades in gloom ; Nor deem those offerings vain. Because each day her steps are drawn Which leave my own existence Still nearer to the tomb ! A bleak, a barren plain !
