XV

THE STAR OF LOVE

  Time’s cycle rolls—­once more I hail the day
  On which propitious Heaven sent to Earth,
  Disguised in thy fair form, in mortal birth,
  The Star of Love, whose pure celestial ray
  Glides through the spirit’s gloom and lights the way
  To bliss!  I hail thy coming ’midst the dearth
  Of the soul’s aspirations, when the worth
  Of hearts like thine had ceased men’s hearts to sway.

  I greet thee, Love, and with thee scale the height,
  That cloudless height where winged spirits rest: 
  Where the deep yearnings of the mortal breast,
  From mortal bin set free, reveal to sight
  That living Presence, that Eternal Light
  In which enwrapt the eager soul is blest.

XVI

IMPRISONED MUSIC

  Oh, had I but the poet’s voice to sing,
  Then would the music prisoned in my heart
  (Panting in vain its message to impart)
  Hover around thee, Love, on trembling wing,
  To tell thee of the soft-eyed hopes that cling
  To Love’s white feet, the doubts and fears that start
  And pierce his bosom with a poisoned dart,—­
  The smiles that soothe, the cold hard looks that sting!

  But ’tis not mine, the soaring joy of Song: 
  I strive to voice my soul, but strive in vain. 
  Though passion thrills, and eager fancies throng,
  Deckt in the varying hues of joy and pain,
  Yet the weak voice—­as weak as Love is strong—­
  Dies murm’ring on Love’s throbbing heart again.

XVII

LOVE’S MESSAGE

  We will not take Love’s name; that little word,
  By lips too oft profaned, we will not use. 
  From Nature’s best and loveliest we will choose
  Fit symbols for Love’s message; like a bird,—­
  Whose warbled love-notes by its mate are heard
  In greenwood glade,—­shalt thou in strains profuse
  The prisoned music of thy heart unloose,
  While my heart’s love is by sweet flow’rs averred.

  Then take, O take these fresh-awakened flowers,
  The symbols of my love, and keep them near,
  Where they may feel thy breath and touch thy hand;
  Then sing thy songs to me,—­in silver showers
  Pour forth, thine eager soul, and I shall hear;
  Ah, thus will Love Love’s message Understand!

XVIII

ECSTASY

The Nightingale upon the Rose’s breast Warbling her tale of life-long sorrow lies, Till in love’s tranced ecstasy her eyes Close and her throbbing heart is set at rest; For, to the yielding flow’r her bosom prest, Death steals upon her in the sweet disguise Of crowned love and brings what life denies,—­ mingling of the souls,—­Love’s eager quest!