She came and stood in the Old South Church
A wonder and a sign,
With a look the old-time sibyls wore,
Half-crazed and half-divine.
Save the mournful sackcloth about her wound,
Unclothed as the primal mother,
With limbs that trembled and eyes that blazed
With a fire she dare not smother.
Loose on her shoulders fell her...
Soft-throated south, breathing of summer’s ease
(Sweet breath, whereof the violet ’s life is made!)
Through lips moist-warm, as thou hadst lately stayed
’Mong rosebuds, wooing to the cheeks of these
Loth blushes faint and maidenly,—rich breeze,
Still doth thy honeyed blowing bring a shade
Of sad foreboding. In thy hand is laid
The power...
From “The Princess”
O SWALLOW, Swallow, flying, flying South,
Fly to her, and fall upon her gilded eaves,
And tell her, tell her what I tell to thee.
O tell her, Swallow, thou that knowest each,
That bright and fierce and fickle is the South,
And dark and true and tender is the North.
O Swallow, Swallow, if I could follow, and...
From “Sentinel Songs”
THE FALLEN cause still waits,—
Its bard has not come yet,
His song—through one of to-morrow’s gates
Shall shine—but never set.
But when he comes—he ’ll sweep
A harp with tears all stringed,
And the very notes he strikes will weep,
As they come, from his hand, woe-winged.
Ah! grand shall be...
It rises — passes — on our South
Inscribes a simple Noon —
Cajoles a Moment with the Spires
And infinite is gone —
South Winds jostle them —
Bumblebees come —
Hover — hesitate —
Drink, and are gone —
Butterflies pause
On their passage Cashmere —
I — softly plucking,
Present them here!
The Birds reported from the South —
A News express to Me —
A spicy Charge, My little Posts —
But I am deaf — Today —
The Flowers — appealed — a timid Throng —
I reinforced the Door —
Go blossom for the Bees — I said —
And trouble Me — no More —
The Summer Grace, for...
