THE CORAL GROVE. DEEP in the wave is a coral grove, Where the purple mullet and goldfish rove, Where the sea-flower spreads its leaves of blue, That never are wet with falling dew, But in bright and changeful beauty shine, [brine. Far down in the green and glassy The floor is of sand, like the mountain drift, And the pearl-shells spangle the flinty snow; From coral rocks the sea-plants lift Their boughs, where the tides and billows flow; The water is calm and still below, For the winds and waves are absent there, And the sands are bright as the stars that glow In the motionless fields of upper air: There with its waving blade of green, The sea-flag streams through the si lent water. And the crimson leaf of the dulse is And round his breast the ripples break, As down he bears before the gale. The waves along thy pebbly shore, As blows the north-wind, heave their foam, And curl around the dashing oar; As late the boatman hies him home. How sweet, at set of sun, to view Thy golden mirror spreading wide, And see the mist of mantling blue' Float round the distant mountain's side. At midnight hour, as shines the But for her who sleeps in your arms And when the wind brought welcome to-night The revel of life is done! But, robed and crowned with your saintly bliss, Queen of heaven and bride of the sun, O beautiful Maud, you'll never miss The kisses another hath won! IN AN HOUR. I. ANTICIPATION. "I'LL take the orchard path," she said, Speaking lowly, smiling slowly: The brook was dried within its bed, The hot sun flung a flame of red Low in the west as forth she sped. Across the dried brook-course she went, Singing lowly, smiling slowly; She scarcely felt the sun that spent Its fiery force in swift descent, She never saw the wheat was bent, The grasses parched, the blossoms dried; Singing lowly, smiling slowly, Her eyes amidst the drouth espied A summer pleasance far and wide, With roses and sweet violets pied. II. DISAPPOINTMENT. But homeward coming all the way, She saw the blossoms' dry decay, A breeze had sprung from out the south, But, sighing lowly, pacing slowly, She only felt the burning drouth; Her eyes were hot and parched her mouth, Yet sweet the wind blew from the south. To gladly, gleefully do your best To blow her against the young man's breast, Where he as gladly folded her in, And kissed her mouth and her dimpled chin? Ah! Ellery Vane, you little thought, An hour ago, when you besought This country lass to walk with you, After the sun had dried the dew, What perilous danger you'd be in, As she tied her bonnet under her chin! SOME DAY OF DAYS. SOME day; some day of days, threading the street With idle, heedless pace, Some day, some day of days, thus may we meet. Or winter's icy chill Touch whitely vale and hill. What matter? I shall thrill Through every vein with summer on that day. Once more life's perfect youth will all come back, And for a moment there I shall stand fresh and fair, And drop the garment care; Once more my perfect youth will nothing lack. I shut my eyes now, thinking how 't will be, How face to face each soul Of dreary Fate's dark separating sea; And glance to glance, and hand to hand in greeting, The past with all its fears, Its lonely, yearning years, Perchance the sun may shine from Shall vanish in the moment of that There is no sadness in the world, No other like it here or there, The sadness of deserted homes In nests, or hearts, or anywhere. A LETTER. Two things love can do, Can distrust, or can believe; Two things you can do, Be the thing you used to be, So far I wrote, my darling, drearily, But now my sad pen falls down wearily From out my trembling hand. |