Poems (Proctor)/Stanley Ware
STANLEY WARE.
Now as sinks the New Year's sun,Fadeless Day for him is won!Closed his eyes in dreamless rest;Crossed his hands upon his breast;Still the tireless, bounding feetDone with garden, stair, and street,Hushed the voice that used to ringClear as robin's note in spring;There he lies, so calm, so fair,All that's left of Stanley Ware!
"O Mamma! 'tis travelers threeBaby, Mary, I will be!"—So he said but yester-night,Listening with a boy's delightTo some tale of over sea.Now the parting winds blow free!Now his bark is launched from shore,All its sails set, to exploreTranquil oceans, islands rare,As God pilots—Stanley Ware!
Would we call him back to earth?Back from his immortal birth? Wish the bark those tides have swungTossed our gulfs and shoals among?Let our tempests beat the sailsSpread to heaven's ambrosial gales?Nay, sweet Voyager! for theeGlorious shines the crystal sea!Farthest deeps thy prow may dare,Angel-convoyed,—Stanley Ware!
Darling! when the sun and rainMake our cold earth bright again,Violet, rose, anemone,Loveliest blooms will symbol thee;Song of birds in forest shrineBring us still some tone of thine.And at last will dawn the dayWhen we, too, shall launch away;—O what bliss with thee to shareHours celestial—Stanley Ware!
Jan. 1, 1872,