Where helen sits, the darkness is so deep,
No golden sunbeam strikes athwart the gloom;
No mother’s smile, no glance of loving eyes,
Lightens the shadow of that lonely room.
Yet the clear whiteness of her radiant soul
Decks the dim walls, like angel vestments shed.
The lovely light of holy innocence
Shines like a halo round her...
Oh! little loveliest lady mine,
What shall I send for your valentine?
Summer and flowers are far away;
Gloomy old Winter is king to-day;
Buds will not blow, and sun will not shine:
What shall I do for a valentine?
I ’ve searched the gardens all through and through
For a bud to tell of my love so true;
But buds are asleep, and...
White sand and cedars; cedars, sand;
Light-houses here and there; a strand
Strewn o’er with driftwood; tangled weeds;
A squad of fish-hawks poised above
The nets, too anxious-eyed to move;
Flame-flowering cactus; wingëd seeds,
That on a sea of sunshine lie
Unfanned, save by some butterfly;
A sun now reddening toward the west;—...
“here, o lily-white lady mine,
Here by thy warrior sire’s own shrine,
Handsel I thee by this golden sign,
This sunshiny thing.”
Weeping she reached her hand so slim,
Smiled, though her eyes were wet and dim,
Saying: “I swear, by Heaven, by him,
And by this handsel ring!”
But as she bended her eyes abashed,...
Beside the landsman knelt a dame,
And slowly pushed the pages o’er;
Still by the hearth-fire’s spending flame
She waited, while a hollow roar
Came from the chimney, and the breath
Of twice seven hounds upon the floor;
And, save the old man’s labored moan,
The night had no sound more.
The fire flickered; with a start...
Wynken, blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe,—
Sailed on a river of crystal light
Into a sea of dew.
“Where are you going, and what do you wish?”
The old moon asked the three.
“We have come to fish for the herring-fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we,”
...
When our babe he goeth walking in his garden,
Around his tinkling feet the sunbeams play;
The posies they are good to him,
And bow them as they should to him,
As fareth he upon his kingly way;
And birdlings of the wood to him
Make music, gentle music, all the day,
When our babe he goeth walking in his garden.
...
The fire upon the hearth is low,
And there is stillness everywhere,
And, like winged spirits, here and there
The firelight shadows fluttering go.
And as the shadows round me creep,
A childish treble breaks the gloom,
And softly from a further room
Comes: “Now I lay me down to sleep.”
And, somehow, with that little prayer...
The mill goes toiling slowly around
With steady and solemn creak,
And my little one hears in the kindly sound
The voice of the old mill speak.
While round and round those big white wings
Grimly and ghostlike creep,
My little one hears that the old mill sings
“Sleep, little tulip, sleep!”
The sails are reefed and the nets...
In an ocean, ’way out yonder
(As all sapient people know,)
Is the land of Wonder-wander,
Whither children love to go:
It ’s their playing, romping, swinging,
That give great joy to me
While the Dinkey-Bird goes singing
In the amfalula tree!
There the gum-drops grow like cherries,
And taffy’s thick as peas,—...
