Poems (Barker)/The Warning Voice

by Alice J. Green Barker

The Warning Voice.

We said when the beautiful summer
 Had donned its fair mantle of flowers,
We would choose from its casket of beauty
 Its lovliest, happiest hours.
And my lover stooped lower and murmured,
 "June roses, my darling, shall be
The flowers thy bridal wreath twining,
 The flowers I covet for thee.

"I would ask for its loveliest blossoms,
 With their leaves all besprinkled with dew;
They, alone, to my heart tell the story
 Of lovers so loyal and true."
So, kissing my forehead, he whispered,
 "June roses the flowers shall be:
Fair tokens of love, pure, undying,
 My darling, to you, and to me.

"We must part for a season, my loved one;
 But the winter will soon speed away,
Remember the roses that herald
 Our happy and bright wedding day;
And now I must leave you a little—
 God bless you—wherever you be,
June roses, dew glistening, shall cover
 A bridal wreath, soon, love, for thee."

Then out in the sweet, quiet twilight
 He passed from my hungering sight,
And I watched him until he had vanished,
 In the darkness and gloom of the night;
Then I turned to sweet thoughts of the future,
 What a treasure 'twas bringing to me,
The words of my lover repeating:
 "June roses, my darling, for thee."

And then in the shadowy stillness,
 The rustle of garments I heard,
And a voice, full of warning and pity,
 Spoke plainly each terrible word—
I knew 'twas the voice of an angel
 That came in the stillness to me—
"June roses may cover a coffin,
 But a bridal wreath, never, for thee."

And so, when the morning came, slowly
 Adorning the beautiful East,
I turned me from thoughts of the future,
 As the starving in passing a feast.
The words of the angel seemed ringing
 O'er mountain and valley and sea,
"June roses may cover a coffin,
 But a bridal wreath, never, for thee!"