Poems (Dudley)/A Gift

by Marion Vienna Churchill Dudley

For works with similar titles, see A Gift.

A GIFT.

I OPENED my door in the Autumn's soft splendor, And noontide rushed inward, calm, regal and tender;A harp from the bridal, from tumult and tears, Stole music from silence to ravish my ears;

Interwoven of perfumes and exquisite dyes From Araby's bowers and Italy's skies;It came like a hope and I fervently bless Dear hands that thus proffered their blooming caress:

If kindness could kill one, 'twere bliss thus to die And burdened with blessings go home to the sky;No time can defraud me; when rich hues grow pale The heart of the giver I'll hide 'neath their veil.