Ella with the Shining Hair
Through many a fragrant cedar groveA darkened water moans;And there pale Memory stood with LoveAmongst the moss-green stones.
The shimmering sunlight fell and kissedThe grasstree’s golden sheaves;But we were troubled with a mistOf music in the leaves.
One passed us, like a sudden gleam;Her face was deadly fair.“Oh, go,” we said, “you homeless DreamOf Ella’s shining hair!
“We halt, like one with tired wings,And we would fain forgetThat there are tempting, maddening thingsToo high to clutch at yet!
“Though seven Springs have filled the WoodWith pleasant hints and signs,Since faltering feet went forth and stoodWith Death amongst the pines.”
From point to point unwittinglyWe wish to clamber still,Till we have light enough to seeThe summits of the hill.
“O do not cry, my sister dear,”Said beaming Hope to Love,“Though we have been so troubled hereThe Land is calm above;
“Beyond the regions of the stormWe’ll find the golden gates,Where, all the day, a radiant Form,Our Ella, sits and waits.”
And Memory murmured: “She was oneOf God’s own darlings lent;And Angels wept that she had gone,And wondered why she went.
“I know they came, and talked to her,Through every garden breeze,About eternal Hills of Myrrh,And quiet Jasper Seas.
“For her the Earth contained no charms;All things were strange and wild;And I believe a Seraph’s armsCaught up the sainted Child.”
And Love looked round, and said: “Oh, youThat sit by Beulah’s streams,Shake on this thirsty life the dewWhich brings immortal dreams!
“Ah! turn to us, and greet us oftWith looks of pitying balm,And hints of heaven, in whispers soft,To make our troubles calm.
“My Ella with the shining hair,Behold, these many years,We’ve held up wearied hands in prayer;And groped about in tears.”
But Hope sings on: “Beyond the stormWe’ll find the golden gatesWhere, all the day, a radiant Form,Our Ella, sits and waits.”