Poems (Holley)/Little Nell
LITTLE NELL.
Clasp your arms round her neck to-night, Little Nell,Arms so delicate, soft and white,And yet so strong in love's strange might;Clasp them around the kneeling form,Fold them tenderly close and warm, And who can tellBut such slight links may draw her back,Away from the fatal, fatal track: Who can tell, Little Nell?
Press your lips to the lips of snow, Little Nell;Oh baby heart, may you never knowThe anguish that makes them quiver so;But now in her weakness and mortal pain,Let your kisses fall like a dewy rain, And who can tellBut your innocent love, your childish kissMay lure her back from the dread abyss; Who can tell, Little Nell.
Lay your cheek on her aching breast, Little Nell;To you tis a refuge of holy rest,But a dying bird never drooped its crestWith a deadlier pain in its wounded heart;Al! love's sweet links may be torn apart, Little Nell;The altar may flame with gems and gold,And splendor be bought, and peace be sold, But is it well, Little Nell?
Veil her face with your tresses bright, Little Nell;Hide that vision out of her sight—Those dark dark eyes with their tender light—Uplift your pure face, can it beShe will bid farewell to heaven and thee, Little Nell?No; your mute lips plead with eloquent power,Her tears fall like a tropic shower; All is well, Little Nell.
Close your blue eyes now in sleep, Little Nell;Her angel smiles to see her weep; At morn a ship will cleave the deep,And one alone will be borne away,And one will clasp thee close, and pray;Oh Little Nell, Never, never beneath the sun,Will you dream what you this night have done,Done so well, Little Nell.