Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THOUGHTS OF THE PAST, by SARAH HELEN POWER WHITMAN Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: In the soft gloom of summer's balmy eve Last Line: By the still waters of eternal life! Subject(s): Past | ||||||||
IN the soft gloom of summer's balmy eve, When from the lingering glances of the sun The sad earth turns away her blushing cheek, Mantling its glow in twilight's shadowy veil, -- Oft 'mid the falling dews I love to stray; Onward and onward through the pleasant fields, Far up the lilied borders of the stream, To this "green silent spot among the hills," Endeared by thronging memories of the past. Oft have I lingered on this rustic bridge, To view the limpid waters, winding on Under dim-vaulted woods, whose woven boughs Of beach, and maple, and broad sycamore, Throw their soft moving shadows o'er the wave, While blossomed vines, dropt to the water's brim, Hang idly swaying in the summer wind. The birds that wander thro' the twilight heaven Are mirror'd far beneath me; -- and young leaves That tremble on the birch tree's silver boughs, In the cool wave reflected, gleam below Like twinkling stars athwart the verdant gloom. A sound of rippling water rises sweet Amid the silence; and the western breeze Sighing through sedges, and low meadow blooms, Comes wafting gentle thoughts from Memory's land, And wakes the long hushed music of the heart. Oft dewy spring hath brimmed the brook with showers, Oft hath the long, bright summer fringed its banks With fragrant blossoms, and the autumn sere Shed mellow hues on all its wooded shores, Since first I trod these paths in youth's sweet prime, With loved ones whom time's desolating wave Hath wafted now for ever from my side. The living stream still lingers on its way In idle dalliance with the dew-lipped flowers, That toss their fairy heads at its caress, Or trembling listen to its silver voice; While through yon rifted boughs, the evening star Is seen above the hill-top, beautiful As when on many a balmy summer night, Lapp'd in sweet dreams, "in holy passion hush'd," I saw its ray slant through the dusky pines. Long years have passed, and by the unchanging stream, Bereft and sorrow-taught, alone I stand Listening the hollow music of the winds. Alone, -- alone; -- the stars are far away, And frequent clouds shut out the summer heaven, But still the calm earth keeps her constant course, And whispers -- "Hope," thro' all her breathing bowers! Not all in vain the vision of our youth, The apocalypse of beauty and of love, The stag-like heart of hope; -- life's mystic dream The soul shall yet interpret, to our prayer The Isis veil be lifted! Though we pine E'en 'mid the ungather'd roses of our youth, Pierced with strange pangs, and longings vague yet sweet, As if earth's fairest flowers served but to wake Sad haunting memories of our Eden home; -- Not all in vain! Meantime in patient trust Rest we on Nature's bosom; from her eye Serene and still, drinking in faith and love; To her calm pulse attempering the heart That throbs too wildly for ideal bliss. Oh! holy mother, heal me, for I faint Upon life's arid pathway, and "my feet On the dark mountains stumble!" Near thy heart Close nestling let me lie, and let thy breath, Fragrant and cool, fall on my fever'd cheek, As in those unworn ages ere pale thought Forestall'd life's patient harvest. Give me strength In generous abandonment of heart, To follow wheresoe'er o'er the world's waste The cloudy pillar moveth, till at last It guides to pleasant vales and pastures green, By the still waters of eternal life! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FERGUS FALLING by GALWAY KINNELL A TIME PAST by DENISE LEVERTOV LAST THINGS by WILLIAM MEREDITH CHRISTMAS TREE by JOHN FREDERICK NIMS THIS MORNING, GOD by LAURE-ANNE BOSSELAAR SONNETS FROM SERIES RELATING TO EDGAR ALLEN POE: 1 by SARAH HELEN POWER WHITMAN A NOVEMBER LANDSACPE by SARAH HELEN POWER WHITMAN A SEPTEMBER EVENING ON THE BANKS OF THE MOSHASSUCK by SARAH HELEN POWER WHITMAN |
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