JOHN JAMES PIATT. READING THE MILESTONE. I STOPPED to read the milestone here, A finger, westward, cut in stone: Across the dust and distance shown. Around me lay the farms asleep In hazes of autumnal air, I read the milestone, day by day: TWO PATRONS. "WHAT shall I sing?" I sighed, Is lost with kindred lips, and dead Below, a violet in the dew Above, a star in quiet blue 66 Their moving presence oftentimes we know, It thrills us everywhere. Sometimes we see them; lo! at night, Our eyes were shut, but opened seem: The darkness breathed a breath of wondrous light, And then it was a dream! THE LOVE-LETTER. I GREET thee, loving letter- The fragrant little rose-leaf, She sends by thee, is come: THE GOLDEN HAND. Lo, from the city's heat and dust I see it when the morning brings I see it when the noontide beats Touched with a gracious ray the Pulses of fire in busy streets; gloom. 'Sing, friend, of me," the violet sighed, "That I may haunt your grave with love;" "Sing, friend, of me," the star replied, "That I may light the dark above." THE SIGHT OF ANGELS. THE angels come, the angels go, The dust flies in the flaming air: To the dark earth with hovering Flashing with the last fluttering ray, bright! Good-night, then, lost darlings of It is nothing to see one's own tears mine I never shall see you again: Ah, never in shadow nor shine; Ah, never in dew nor in rain! A DREAM'S AWAKENING. SHUT in a close and dreary sleep, Lonely and frightened and oppressed I felt a dreadful serpent creep, Writhing and crushing o'er my breast. I woke and knew my child's sweet arm, As soft and pure as flakes of snow, Beneath my dream's dark, hateful charm, Had been the thing that tortured so. And in the morning's dew and light I seemed to hear an angel say, 66 The Pain that stings in Time's low night May prove God's Love in higher day." THAT NEW WORLD. How gracious we are to grant to the dead Those wide, vague lands in the foreign sky, Reserving this world for ourselves instead For we must live, though others must die! And what is this world that we keep, I pray? True, it has glimpses of dews and flowers; Then Youth and Love are here and away, [ours. Like mated birds-but nothing is Ak, nothing indeed, but we cling to it all. fall; Yet surely the breath of our life is sweet. Yes, the breath of our life is so sweet, I fear We were loath to give it for all we know Of that charmèd country we hold so dear, Far into whose beauty the breathless go. Yet certain we are, when we see them fade Out of the pleasant light of the sun, Of the sands of gold in the palmleaf's shade, And the strange high jewels all these have won. You dare not doubt it, O soul of mine! And yet if these empty eyes could see One, only one, from that voyage divine, With something, anything sure for me! Ah, blow me the scent of one lily, to tell That it grew outside of this world at most; Ah, show me a plume to touch, or a shell That whispers of some unearthly coast! MAKING PEACE. AFTER this feud of yours and mine After we both forget, forget, I It is nothing to hear one's own I heart beat, pray you think how warm and sweet The heart can beat; pray you think how soon the rose From grave-dust grows. |