Poems (Procter)/Hours

by Adelaide Anne Procter

HOURS.

HEN the bright stars came out last night,
 And the dew lay on the flowers,
I had a vision of delight,—
 A dream of bygone hours.

Those hours that came and fled so fast,
 Of pleasure or of pain,
As phantoms rose from out the past
 Before my eyes again.

With beating heart did I behold
 A train of joyous hours,
Lit with the radiant light of old,
 And, smiling, crowned with flowers.

And some were hours of childish sorrow,
 A mimicry of pain,
That through their tears looked for a morrow
 They knew must smile again.

Those hours of hope that longed for life,
 And wished their part begun,
And ere the summons to the strife
 Dreamed that the field was won.

I knew the echo of their voice,
 The starry crowns they wore;
The vision made my soul rejoice
 With the old thrill of yore.

I knew the perfume of their flowers;
 The glorious shining rays
Around these happy, smiling hours
 Where lit in bygone days.

O stay, I cried,—bright visions, stay,
 And leave me not forlorn!
But, smiling still, they passed away,
 Like shadows of the morn.

One spirit still remained, and cried,
 "Thy soul shall ne'er forget!"
He standeth ever by my side,—
 The phantom called Regret!

But still the spirits rose, and there
 Were weary hours of pain,
And anxious hours of fear and care
 Bound by an iron chain.

Dim shadows came of lonely hours,
 That shunned the light of day,
And in the opening smile of flowers
 Saw only quick decay.

Calm hours that sought the starry skies
 For heavenly lore were there;
With folded hands and earnest eyes,
 I knew the hours of prayer.

Stern hours that darkened the sun's light,
 Heralds of coming woes,
With trailing wings, before my sight
 From the dim past arose.

As each dark vision passed and spoke
 I prayed it to depart:
At each some buried sorrow woke
 And stirred within my heart,—

Until these hours of pain and care
 Lifted their tearful eyes,
Spread their dark pinions in the air,
 And passed into the skies.