Poems (Chitwood)/Elma Howard
ELMA HOWARD.
"Ah! how dismally the shadows Gather o'er the lonesome world,And the new moon brightly breaketh Through the gloaming's misty gold.
"Long I've listened for the gallop Of his courser, down the dale,But have only heard the bul-bul, And the soughing of the gale."—
Sadly whispered Elma Howard, With her red lips half apart,While she locked her brown hands tightly, As to still her aching heart.
In her night-black locks she'd braided Crimson berries, bright and pure,Saying, hopefully, yet sadly, "He will meet me, I am sure.
"For he said, 'My gentle Ella, When you see the fair new moonBrightly marked along the azure Of the western sky, in June,
"'Wait you neath the dusky shadows Of the gum-tree, in the dell,Where I oft have met you, Ella— I have something I would tell.'"
Dim and paler grew the gloaming, Stars and moon more softly bright,Filling all the shadowy hollows With a calm and steady light;
But alone stood Elma Howard, With a strangely troubled heart,Saying, "He is far above me, Fate will set our lives apart.
"For his name is very noble, And he can not count his gold;Why should I be here to meet him?" And she shuddered as with cold.
'Neath white lids the dark eyes sheltered, That the tear-drops might not fall,;Then she murmured, "It were better We had never met at all.
"Better I had never listened To the music of his tone"———Swept a courser down the valley— Elma stood no more alone.
By her side stood Albert Lacy, Gently took her by the hand,And he thought her in the twilight Fairest maiden in the land.
But his soft blue eyes were dreamy, And his smile no sunshine had,And he sighed as one aweary, For his heart was very sad.
In his face looked Elma Howard, With a glance half love, half fear,In her thought no ancient story Told of such a cavalier.
"I am late, my gentle Ella, See, the moon is going down,And the dew upon your tresses Sparkles brightly as a crown.
"Sit beside me in the shadow, For I can not bear the light,I have something I must tell you, Though my heart should break to-night."
Paused he then, as though to gather, In the solemn silence, strengthFor the framing of his story; But his voice she heard at length.
And her heart grew strangely silent In the meshes Love had set,As a bird that does not struggle Any longer in the net.
"Elma," said he, very sadly, "In a city, far away,Dwells a fair and gentle lady, Lovelier than my words can say.
"She has tresses like the sunbeams, And her voice is sweet and low,And her eyes arc blue as sapphire, And her cheeks are like the snow.
"But she smiles when I am coming, And her white check flushes red;Elma, years we have been plighted, And to-morrow we shall wed.
"But my heart is grieved, dear Ella, That your face no more I'll see,For I can not tell how precious You have ever been to me.
Very still was Elma Howard, Lip and cheek no more were red,But her features in the moonlight Were as snowy as the dead.
And she heard as one a-dreaming Breezes whisper and depart,And the streamlet's waters singing, Like an overflowing heart.
"Ella," whispered Albert Lacy, In a pleading voice and low,"Have you not a word to offer, Not a smile, before I go?
"Nevermore, beneath these shadows, In the evening we shall meet.""Albert Lacy," said the maiden, And her tones were music-sweet,
"You are very rich and noble, I am humble as a flower,And the hour I chanced to meet you Was a sad and fated hour.
"Once I walked along the meadow, When the Summer pinks were there,And my footfalls chanced to startle From its hiding-place a hare.
"Lightly down the path it bounded, Pausing oft and looking back,And the frailest buds of clover Scarcely bent beneath its track.
"But a wound was in its bosom Ere it reached the hedgeing low,And it turned its eyes upon me, Mutely telling of its woe.
"Soon I looked upon a hunter Idly leaning on his gun,And he cared not for the anguish That his random shot had done.
"But my eyes with tears were blinded, And I sighed, Alas! alas!As I traced it by the dropping Of its blood upon the grass—
"While the hunter marked the soaring Of an eaglet in the sky.Caring nothing for the valley Where the hare crept on to die.
"Shyly gazed I then upon you, Half in love and half in hate,Little knowing I was walking On the borders of my fate.
"Had your shot but torn my bosom, In that quiet summer's dayIt had been less coldly cruel Than to torture life away."
"Ella Howard! Ella Howard!" Knelt he in the moonlight there,"Do not put such cross upon me, It is more than I can bear.
"I have pushed the future from me; Do not look upon me so,I have lingered in your presence, For I could not bear to go.
"'Tis my fate that bears me from you, Oh, believe me, 'tis not pride,And a strange wild love has charmed me, That I could not leave your side.
"But I lingered, fascinated, Elma, as I linger now,But the future! Oh the future! I can never break my vow."
"Leave me, Albert, not in anger, Not in coldness do we part;Go, in mercy, it were better I had looked not in your heart.
Pressed his lips upon her forehead, Looked she on his face so pale;Then she listened to the gallop Of a steed adown the vale.
Years have passed since Elma Howard Heard the whispered last good-bye;In that first dark hour of sorrow, She had almost prayed to die.
But she calmly took the burden Of her life-cross up again,Saying softly, "It will cheer me, That I did not love in vain.
"As a rose whose only blossom Droppeth suddenly away,Has the love-bloom from my spirit Fallen silently this day.
"Ah, my hopes were ever fettered, And my wants were ever small,But the future gives no promise Of the sweetest of them all.
"Out upon the troubled waters, Faith went flying like a dove,Bringing only to my waiting Withered blossomings of love.
"Yet forgive me, O my Father, It was sinful to complain,And my earth-love has been worship, Let me heavenward look again."
Went the Summer and the Winter, And the Spring-time softly fair,And the heart of Ella Howard Was uplifted by her prayer.
By the gloomy couch of sorrow, In the death-hour, like a saint,Was she found, this earthly angel, Giving hope-words to the faint.
And her face grew bright with beauty, Most divinely meek and fair,As her pure soul climbed the ladder To the atmosphere of prayer.
And the friends who were about her, Those to whom her love was dear,Whispered to themselves, "Our sister Is too good to linger here.
"For her heart is love's pure temple, Where the angels enter in,And its light should not be darkened By the shadowings of sin."
But they knew not how she wrestled, With the thoughts that upward roseFrom the grave where love was sadly Coffined down to his repose.
How one memory, like a phantom, Would not always silence keep,How one name was sometimes whispered Very softly in her sleep.
Went the Summer and the Winter, And the Spring-time's rosy May,Came the Summer and the Winter, Till ten years had passed away.
Then beneath the turf they laid her, 'Mid the fading Autumn bowers,While her spirit had pressed upward Like the fragrance of the flowers.