Classic Poem

MIRIAM. — I.

Miriam, loved one, were thy goings weary?
Journeyed not with thee one to brighten thy way?
Lighted with love-light how could it be dreary?
Was it not my way?

Why wert thou weary? All the golden glories
Streaming from love's lamp thy enraptured sight won;
Sweetly we whispered old self-heroed stories,
Miriam, bright one!

Crimson lipp'd love-flowers sprang about us going,
Clustering closely, rosy shadows weaving;
Straight from our footsteps glowing ways were flowing,
Vistas far-cleaving.

Silvery lute-notes thrilled athrough the noonlight,
Flutings of bird-throats light as flight of swallow;
Scents rose around us thick as in the moonlight
Leaves fall and follow.

How could I dream that thou wert growing weary?
Never I guessed it till I saw thee fading;
Saw thee slip from me, — and my way fell dreary.
Cease thine upbraiding!

Cease thine upbraiding, ah, my widowed spirit!
Trace on thy path by rays from backward sight won.
More than I gave thee the bliss thou dost inherit,
Miriam, bright one!