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1840–50].
SARAH T. BOLTON.
365
My days and nights pass pleasantly,
Serenely on the seasons glide;
And though I think and dream of thee,
I dream of many things beside.
Serenely on the seasons glide;
And though I think and dream of thee,
I dream of many things beside.
Most eagerly thy praise is sought;
'Tis sweet to meet and sad to part
But all my best and deepest thought
Is hidden from thee, in my heart.
'Tis sweet to meet and sad to part
But all my best and deepest thought
Is hidden from thee, in my heart.
Then blame not that my love is less
Than should repay thy heart's desire;
For though I give thee only this,
I give thee all thou canst inspire.
Than should repay thy heart's desire;
For though I give thee only this,
I give thee all thou canst inspire.
IMPATIENCE.
Will the mocking daylight never be done?
Is the moon her hour forgetting ?
weary sun ! merciless sun !
You have grown so slow in setting !
Is the moon her hour forgetting ?
weary sun ! merciless sun !
You have grown so slow in setting !
And yet, if the days could come and go
As fast as I count them over.
They would seem to me like years, I know,
Till they brought me back my lover.
As fast as I count them over.
They would seem to me like years, I know,
Till they brought me back my lover.
Down through the valleys, down to the
south,
west wind, go with fleetness,
Kiss, with your kisses, his perfect mouth.
And bring to me all its sweetness.
south,
west wind, go with fleetness,
Kiss, with your kisses, his perfect mouth.
And bring to me all its sweetness.
Go when he lieth in slumber deep,
And put your arms about him.
And hear if he whispers my name in sleep,
And tell him I die without him.
And put your arms about him.
And hear if he whispers my name in sleep,
And tell him I die without him.
O birds, that sail the air like ships,
To me such discord bringing,
If you heard the sound of my lover's lips.
You would be ashamed of your singing!
To me such discord bringing,
If you heard the sound of my lover's lips.
You would be ashamed of your singing!
O rose, from whose heart such a crimson rain
Up to your soft cheek gushes.
You could never show your face again,
If you saw my lover's blushes !
Up to your soft cheek gushes.
You could never show your face again,
If you saw my lover's blushes !
hateful stars, in hateful skies.
Can you think your light is tender,
When you steal it all from my lover's eyes.
And shine with a borrowed splendor ?
Can you think your light is tender,
When you steal it all from my lover's eyes.
And shine with a borrowed splendor ?
sun, going over the western wall,
If you stay there none will heed you ;
For why should you rise or shine at all
When he is not here to need you ?
If you stay there none will heed you ;
For why should you rise or shine at all
When he is not here to need you ?
Will the mocking daylight never be done ?
Is the moon her hour forgetting ?
weary sun ! O merciless sun !
You have grown so slow in setting !
Is the moon her hour forgetting ?
weary sun ! O merciless sun !
You have grown so slow in setting !
WANTS AND BLESSINGS.
No gift of poesy is mine.
To bring me either friends or fame ;
I have not written any line
To link remembrance with my name ;
To bring me either friends or fame ;
I have not written any line
To link remembrance with my name ;
No wealth, to take with open palms
Its blessings to the poor and weak —
Not of my charities and alms
Has any tongue a right to speak.
Its blessings to the poor and weak —
Not of my charities and alms
Has any tongue a right to speak.
I have no beauty in my face,
Where roses bloomed not in its prime ;
The brown grows darker, and I trace
Daily the deepening lines of time.
Where roses bloomed not in its prime ;
The brown grows darker, and I trace
Daily the deepening lines of time.
Yet to me friends, most kind and true,
A little of their love have given ;
I have my blessings, though but few.
Some trust in man, much faith in heaven —
A little of their love have given ;
I have my blessings, though but few.
Some trust in man, much faith in heaven —
