The Two Children
Heavy hangs the rain-dropFrom the burdened spray;Heavy broods the damp mistOn uplands far away.
Heavy looms the dull sky,Heavy rolls the sea;And heavy throbs the young heartBeneath that lonely tree.
Never has a blue streakCleft the clouds since morn;Never has his grim fateSmiled since he was born.
Frowning on the infant,Shadowing childhood’s joyGuardian-angel knows notThat melancholy boy.
Day is passing swiftlyIts sad and sombre prime;Boyhood sad is mergingIn sadder manhood’s time:
All the flowers are prayingFor sun, before they close,And he prays too—unconscious—That sunless human rose.
Blossom—that the west-windHas never wooed to blow,Scentless are thy petals,Thy dew is cold as snow!
Soul—where kindred kindness,No early promise woke,Barren is thy beauty,As weed upon a rock.
Wither—soul and blossom!You both were vainly given;Earth reserves no blessingFor the unblest of heaven!
Child of delight, with sun-bright hair,And sea-blue, sea-deep eyes!Spirit of bliss! What brings thee hereBeneath these sullen skies?
Thou shouldst live in eternal spring,Where endless day is never dim;Why, Seraph, has thine erring wingWafted thee down to weep with him?
“Ah! not from heaven am I descended,Nor do I come to mingle tears;But sweet is day, though with shadows blended;And, though clouded, sweet are youthful years.
“I—the image of light and gladness—Saw and pitied that mournful boy,And I vowed—if need were—to share his sadness,And give to him my sunny joy.
“Heavy and dark the night is closing;Heavy and dark may its biding be:Better for all from grief reposing,And better for all who watch like me—
“Watch in love by a fevered pillow,Cooling the fever with pity’s balmSafe as the petrel on tossing billow,Safe in mine own soul’s golden calm!
“Guardian-angel he lacks no longer;Evil fortune he need not fear:Fate is strong, but love is stronger;And MY love is truer than angel-care.”