Poems (Freston)/A Letter
For works with similar titles, see A Letter.
A LETTER
My dear and cherished friend: To you A letter, serious, sad, but true I have to write to-day. I pray that you will lay aside All sense of anger, scorn and pride And hear what I must say.
Castor and Pollux held their sway In heaven upon your natal day, And gave their gifts two-fold; The first, a loyal tender soul, Quick to defend, quick to console,Merry and brave and bold.
Winning the love and praise of all, As easily as toss a ball, Beauty and genius, too; A certain gracious deference, A power to win all confidence, Were Castor's gifts to you.
The other? Ah! what shall I say? His gift is closer hidden away And covered up from view. I know not really what it is, I only know the truth of this, To me 'tis strange and new.
And every instinct of my heart Shrinks from it with a deadly start,Whene'er it is set free; And all those fluttering wings of light,That guard the spirit's inner sight,Surround and bid me flee.
My dear, when you were just my friend,And nothing more, could I the end Of this sad chapter see? I only saw your nobler side, And promised to become your bride, Led on by sympathy.
No, Dear, there was no love for you. My heart was empty. It is true Your presence brought content; And I believed you loved me well, And wished your sorrow to dispel,And so—I gave consent.
I felt that easy it must be To love the one who so loved me,—You seemed so worthy love; But, Oh! I felt my heart grow cold, Before my troth was one hour old,My folly but to prove.
I seemed to give so much to you, You took as your right and due,—A gift not much, indeed, Had I not promised, for your sake To live my life? from your hand take The book of Fate to read?
If the page turned at joy or pain,Sorrow or sickness, loss or gain,To read it firmly through. You see the promise I had given, I fancied had been heard in heaven,—It was not so with you.
And then I knew this heart of mine Would never wake at touch of thine To all its fuller power; And I have learned that I but dreamed,—Your love was never what it seemed To me,—not for an hour.
It was a careless, selfish thing, That at the slightest touch took wing And left but sneers behind. It could be blind to tender deeds, Blind to love's little daily needs, Keen-eyed a fault to find.
I have been patient, borne much pain Before I ask to rend in twain The bonds myself have bound. I love you not, you love not me, Therefore I ask you, set me free, And state upon what ground.
We owe unto ourselves and God A duty first,—the way He trod, Is wide enough for all;—To keep our souls and actions clean,To choose no friends who can demean, To keep vice beyond call.
The duty next is to that one,Your heart has chosen and has won; For her sake you must try To walk uprightly, honor prize, Shame not her choice in the world's eyes, Nor lower her standard high.
You loved my purity of thought, Yet to my unstained ears you brought Your tales of vice untold. You opened wide the gates to me Of unknown worlds,—what I could see Made me shrink back appalled.
You told me selfishness was all The force that kept me from the call Of Satan's wily tongue. A strange creed surely! Is that soul The nobler when she pays the toll Where Evil's gates are swung?
Or is she better, when her own White radiance lets her walk alone, With fearless step and free,Straight in the midst of unclean things? Since from the fluttering of her spirit wings, They hide their heads and flee.
You laughed my "silly" faith to scorn,—You wondered where I had been born, When I said "men were true!" "The aptest hypocrite" you claimed, Was he who never could be blamed For crimes exposed to view.
Thank God! my father still stands forth, A man of stainless, noble worth, To give your words the lie! As long as memories of him last, So long I'll hold my faith still fast, And "Men are worthy," cry.
And yet when all this wrong I learned, It seemed life's sunshine had been turned To gloom, for me at least. For this had Christ been crucified, For this upon the cross He died!—Still spreads the devil's feast.
But ah! methinks, if Lucifer Had ever borne the lights afar In that dear Heaven above,He must, in loathing and disgust, Turn from those sinful haunts of lust, And weep for God and love.
I know that if I married you, I should be to myself untrue,—No union could it be; For I would walk the heights alone, And when your daily tasks were done, Perhaps, you'd call to me,
And I would fold my spirit wings,—To come down to your common things,—About my higher part; And listening to your tenderness, Be happy for a little space, And nestle in your heart.
But oh! my fancies! how they'd crowd,And for more space would cry aloud, Close locked away from you! Your arms would be but prison bars, To keep me from the clouds and stars And darken Heaven's blue.
These words will grieve you sore, I fear. Let us be the kind friends and dear, We were, before the pain Of this unhappy love, to mar Our friendship, and to rudely jar Our peace, had come. Heléne.