My Maid Marian.

Spring comes, with violet eyes unveiled,1
                        
                        Her fragrant lips apart ;2
                        
                        And Earth smiles up as tho’ she held,3
                        
                        Most honeyed thoughts at heart.4
                        
                        But never more will Spring arise,5
                        
                        Dancing in sparkles of her eyes.6
                        A gracious wind, low-breathing, comes7
                        
                        As from the fields of God ;8
                        
                        The old lost Eden newly blooms9
                        
                        From out the sunny sod.10
                        
                        My buried joy stirs with the Earth,11
                        
                        And tries to sun its sweetness forth.12
                        The trees move in their slumbering,13
                        
                        Dreaming of one that’s near—14
                        
                        Put forth their feelers for the Spring,15
                        
                        To wake and find her here.16
                        
                        My spirit on the threshold stands,17
                        
                        And stretches out its waiting hands ;18
                        Then floweth from me in a stream19
                        
                        Of yearning !  wave on wave20
                        
                        Slides thro’ the stillness of a dream,21
                        
                        By little Marian’s grave.22
                        
                        For all the miracle of Spring,23
                        
                        My long-lost babe will never bring.24
                        Where blooms the golden crocus-burst,25
                        
                        And Winter’s tenderling,26
                        
                        There lies my little snowdrop ! first27
                        
                        Of flowers in our love’s Spring.28
                        
                        How all the year’s young beauties blow29
                        
                        About her there, I know, I know.30
                        The blackbird with his warble wet,31
                        
                        The thrush with reedy thrill,32
                        
                        Open their hearts to Spring, and let33
                        
                        The influence have its will.34
                        
                        On all around the Spring hath smiled,35
                        
                        But seems to have kissed where lies my child36
                        In purple shadow, and golden shine,37
                        
                        Old Arthur’s Seat stands crowned ;38
                        
                        Like shapes of silence crystalline,39
                        
                        The great white clouds sail round.40
                        
                        The dead at rest the long day thro’,41
                        
                        Lie calm against the pictured blue.42
                        O Marian !  my maid Marian ! 43
                        
                        So strange it seems to me,44
                        
                        That you, the household’s darling one,45
                        
                        So soon should cease to be.46
                        
                        Ah, was it that our praying breath47
                        
                        Might kindle heavenward fires of faith ?48
                        So much forgiven for your sake,49
                        
                        When bitter words were said !50
                        
                        And little arms about the neck,51
                        
                        With blessings bowed the head.52
                        
                        So happy as we might have been,53
                        
                        Our hearts more close with you between.54
                        Dear, early dewdrop !  Such a gleam55
                        
                        Of sun from heaven you drew ;56
                        
                        We little thought that smiling beam57
                        
                        Would drink our precious dew.58
                        
                        But back to heaven our dew was kissed,59
                        
                        We saw it pass in mournful mist.60
                        
My lowly home was lofty-crowned,61
                        
                        With three sweet budding girls ;62
                        
                        Our sacred marriage-ring set round63
                        
                        With darling wee love-pearls.64
                        
                        One jewel from the ring is gone !65
                        
                        One fills a grave in Warriston.66
                        We bore her beauty in our breast,67
                        
                        As heaven bears the dawn ;68
                        
                        We brooded over her dear nest,69
                        
                        With hearts still closer drawn,70
                        
                        That thrilled and listened, watch’d and throbbed,71
                        
                        And strayed not, yet the nest was robbed.72
                        “Stay yet a little while, beloved !”73
                        
                        In vain our prayerful breath,74
                        
                        Across Heaven’s lighted window moved75
                        
                        The shadow of black death.76
                        
                        In vain our hands were stretch’d to save,77
                        
                        There closed the gateways of the grave.78
                        Could my death-vision have darkened up79
                        
                        In her sweet face, my child !80
                        
                        I scarce should see the bitter cup,81
                        
                        I could have drunk, and smiled,82
                        
                        Blessing her with my last wrung breath,83
                        
                        Dear angel in my dream of death.84
                        Her memory is like music we85
                        
                        Have heard some singer sing,86
                        
                        That thrills life thro’, and echoingly,87
                        
                        Our hearts for ever ring.88
                        
                        We try it o’er and o’er again,89
                        
                        But ne’er recal the wondrous strain.90
                        My proud heart like a river runs, 91
                        
                        Lying awake o’ nights, 92
                        
                        I see her with the shining ones, 93
                        
                        Upon the shining heights ; 94
                        
                        And a wee angel face will peep
                              95
                        
                        Down, star-like, thro’ the veil of sleep.96
                        My yearnings try to get their wings,97
                        
                        And float me up afar,98
                        
                        As in the dawn the skylark springs99
                        
                        To reach some distant star,100
                        
                        That all night long swam down to him101
                        
                        In brightness, but at morn grew dim.102
                        She is a spirit of light, that leavens103
                        
                        The darkness where we wait,104
                        
                        And star-like opens in the heavens105
                        
                        A little golden gate !106
                        
                        Ah, may we wake and find her near,107
                        
                        When work and sleep are over here.108
                        In some far spring of brighter bloom,109
                        
                        More life and ampler breath,110
                        
                        My bud hath burst the folding gloom,111
                        
                        A flower from dusty death.112
                        
                        We wonder will she be much grown,113
                        
                        And how will her new name be known.114
                        I saw her ribboned robe this morn,115
                        
                        Mine own lost little child ;116
                        
                        Wee shoes her tiny feet had worn,117
                        
                        And then my heart grew wild.118
                        
                        We only trust our hearts to peep119
                        
                        In on them when we want to weep.120
                        But hearts will break, or eyes must weep,121
                        
                        And so we bend above,122
                        
                        These treasures of old times that keep123
                        
                        The fragrance of young love.124
                        
                        The harvest field, tho’ reap’d and bare,125
                        
                        Hath still a patient gleaner there.126
                        I never think of her sweet eyes,127
                        
                        In dusty death now dim,128
                        
                        But waters of my heart arise,129
                        
                        And there they smile and swim.130
                        
                        Forget-me-nots, so blue, so dear,131
                        
                        Swim in the waters of a tear !132
                        How often in the days gone by,133
                        
                        She lifted her dear head,134
                        
                        And stretch’d wee arms for me to lie135
                        
                        Down in her little bed,136
                        
                        And cradled in my happy breast,137
                        
                        Was softly carried into rest.138
                        And now when life is sore oppressed,139
                        
                        And runs with weary wave,140
                        
                        I long to lay me down and rest141
                        
                        In little Marian’s grave ;142
                        
                        To smile as peaceful as she smiled,143
                        
                        For I am now the nestling child.144
                        The patient calm that comes with years,145
                        
                        Hath made us cease to fret ;146
                        
                        Tho’ often in the sudden tears,147
                        
                        Dumb hearts will quiver yet !148
                        
                        And each one turns the face, and tries149
                        
                        To hide who looks through parent eyes.150