Poems (Sharpless)/Cardiphonia

by Frances M. Sharpless

CARDIPHONIA

    Come, spread thy snowy wings,
Oh, mild-eyed Peace, above my troubled breast;—
    Breathe of celestial things,
And soothe its passions to an hour's rest,—

    One hour of calm repose,
Amid the anguish of this chequered life,—
    The rest the warrior knows,
To breath him, ere returning to the strife.

    Oh! I am weary, worn;
The spring of life is poisoned at its fount;
    My feet tread slowly on
The onward way—I have no strength to mount,

    Even in fancy, where
Hope beckons with a bright, deluding smile;
    I linger longing here,
Marking with tear-drops each far-stretching mile.

    Stoop from thy radiant home,
Oh white-winged Peace, and dwell within my breast;
    With olive branches come,
And calm its passions to a transient rest.