Selections from the American Poets/The Prophecy
For works with similar titles, see The Prophecy.
For other versions of this work, see The Prophecy (Davidson).
THE PROPHECY.[1]
Let, me gaze a while on that marble brow,On that full dark eye, on that cheek's warm glow; Let me gaze for a moment, that, ere I die,I may read thee, maiden, a prophecy.That brow may beam in glory a while;That cheek may bloom, and that lip may smile;That full, dark eye may brightly beamIn life's gay morn, in hope's young dream;But clouds shall darken that brow of snow,And sorrow blight thy bosom's glow. I know by that spirit so haughty and high,I know by that brightly-flashing eye,That, maiden, there's that within thy breast,Which hath mark'd thee out for a soul unbless'd:The strife of love with pride shall wringThy youthful bosom's tenderest string;And the cup of sorrow, mingled for thee,Shall be drained to the dregs in agony.Yes, maiden, yes, I read in thine eyeA dark and a doubtful prophecy.Thou shalt love, and that love shall be thy curse;Thou wilt need no heavier, thou shalt feel no worse.I see the cloud and the tempest near;The voice of the troubled tide I hear;The torrent of sorrow, the sea of grief,The rushing waves of a wretched life;Thy bosom's bark on the surge I see,And, maiden, thy loved one is there with thee.Not a star in the heavens, not a light on the wave!Maiden, I've gazed on thine early grave.When I am cold, and the hand of DeathHath crown'd my brow with an icy wreath;When the dew hangs damp on this motionless lip;When this eye is closed in its long, last sleep,Then, maiden, pause, when thy heart beats high,And think on my last sad prophecy.
- ↑ Written in her sixteenth year.