Poems (Holmes)/Faithful Love
Faithful Love.
The clear evening sky was mantled in blue,And flow'rets that slept were covered with dew;Laden with perfume, a soft summer breezeCame floating along through whispering trees;Enthroned above, the fair queen of nightWas tinging the sea with silvery light,And bright gleaming stars that circled her brow,Glanced down amazed on the beauties below.'Neath ocean's calm breast, its billows and wavesHad sunk to repose in the coral caves:Nature seemed praising in silence her Lord,Who gave to her, birth by power of His word.Such was the fair evening, so lonely and still,When by the side of a clear mountain rill,'Neath an old oak's boughs that were waving there,A maiden breathed for her lover a prayer;For hither had been their chosen retreat,At still even-tide, when fond lovers meet.Now lonely each night she knelt by that stream,Whose murmurings low, seemed charmed with her theme.As softly she spoke, in tones sweet and clear,One might have fancied a seraph was near.While her hands were clasped on her snow-white breast,A small golden heart to her own was pressed,Which she had received as a parting pledge'Neath the old oak tree at that streamlet's edge.Solemn and pure was the prayer of love,That rose from her heart to the Throne above,For his safe return, who was dearer farThan the morning sun or the evening star. His duty was now in a distant landTo hazard his life with a noble band.In the toils of war he was called to share,And a soldier's part for his country bear.A tear-drop rolled from her soft blue eye,As upward she gazed at the starlit sky,Watching perchance some angel's flightThat bore on his wings her request each night;For hers was the prayer of faith and of loveThat ever finds grace in that world above.Though Heaven may please awhile to delayThe favor that's sought from day to day,Still it hearkens and hears, and will answer giveTo such as by faith its bounties receive.And so did it prove with that maiden fair,Whose pure faith banished all gloom and despair.
Lo, at the same hour, the next even-tide,There knelt by her one, that called her his bride,Who had hastened from war to fulfil his vow,While victory's wreath was fresh on his brow.And, hand joined in hand by that mountain stream,They sat to rehearse love's long-cherished dream;And hovering round came angels of light,Soft whispering joy, then winging their flight.The bliss of that hour was dear to each heart,That love had entwined, now never to part.