Classic Poem

Day floated down the sky — a perfect day —
Leaving a footprint of pale primrose gold
Along the west that, when her lover, Night,
Fled with his starry lances in pursuit
Across the sky, the way she went might shew.

From the faint-tinged ridges of the sea the Moon
Sprang up like Aphrodite from the wave,
Which, as she climbed the jewelled sky, still held
Her golden tresses to its swelling breast,
Where wide dispread their quivering glories lay,
Or as the shield of Night, full-disked, and red
As flowers that look forever toward the Sun.

A terrace with a fountain and an oak
Looked out upon the sea. The fountain danced
Beside the huge old tree as some slim nymph,
Robed in light silver, might her frolics shew
Before some hoary king, while high above
He shook his wild, long locks upon the breeze,
And sighed deep sighs of " All is vanity! "
Behind, a wall of Norman William's time
Rose mellow, hung with ivy, here and there
Torn wide apart to let a casement peer
Upon the terrace.

On a carved sill I leant —
A fleur-de-lis bound with an English rose —
And looked above me into two such eyes
As would have dazzled from that ancient page
That new-old cry that hearts so often write
In their own ashes, " All is vanity! "
" Knowst thou, " she said, with tender eyes far fixed
On the wide arch that domes our little earth,
" That when a star hurls on with shining wings
On some swift message from his throne of light,
The ready heart may wish, and the ripe fruit,
Fulfilment, drop into the eager palm? "
" Then let us watch for such a star, " quoth I.
" Nay, love, " she said, " 'tis but an idle tale! "
But some swift feeling smote upon her brow
A rosy shadow.

I turned and watched the sky.
Calmly the cohorts of the night swept on,
Led by the wide-winged vesper; and, 'gainst the moon,
Where low her globe trembled upon the edge
Of the wide amethyst that clearly paved
The dreamy sapphire of the night, there lay
The jetty spars of some tall ship that looked
The Night's device upon his ripe-red shield.
And suddenly down towards the moon there ran,
From some high space deep veiled in solemn blue,
A little star, a point of trembling gold,
Gone swift as seen.

" My wishing star, " quoth I;
" Shall tell my wish? Didst note that little star?
Its brightness died not; it but disappeared
To whirl undimmed thro' space. I wished our love
Might blot the " All is vanity" from life,
Burning brightly as that star and winging on
Thro' unseen space of veiled Eternity,
Brightened by Immortality — not lost. "
" Awful and sweet the wish! " she said, and so
We rested in the silence of content.