The Richmond palladium. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1855-1875, 1869-11-30
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TOO LATE

I sit alone in the dark and ponder
On days hid deep in the byeone years;
In the busy past my sad thoughts wander
Far through the rain of my falling tears;
Till see him there he stood before me,
Pale with passion and stung with pain;
just as of old he is bending DER me,
Telling the love which he told in vain.
How his voices cadence grew changed and altered
His deepening color, it came and went;
But the tale of passion it never faltered-
A rushing tide till its force was spent.
Oh, knightly hero, noble lover,
How his deep voice rung with the true gold s ring!
In his fight with Fortune he scared above her,
By love ennobled-a king, king!
What answer made him know not surely
Something bitter and commonplace;
But saw the hopes which had shone so purely
Darken out from his pallid face.
In the open doorway he seemed to linger,
And my heart was yearning to call him back /:
a look, a whisper, lifted finger;
But my pride was bitter alack alack
How watched and waited for hopeful tidings!
And often too, when they named his name,
My heart would burst from my sternest chidings,
And flush my face with a telltale fame.
How aited, and my grief together,
For word or whisper we never heardl
For the golden days of the summer weather
Died with the voice of breeze and bird.
1t vas late in autumn the leaves scattered
In withered heaps o'er the hill and lea
My scul with dreams which were not to be.
One night they told me his mournful story
How his bold, brave struggle for life was Ger:
Shot in battle, but crowned with glory
Praised-promoted! heard no more.
From the weary fever at last l rallied,
But only to bear my darker fate
Only to mutter, with lips how pallid,
The bitter burden, "Too lato too late !"
Only to see him, pale and CORY,
Sinking down in the foeman s track:
What care for the praise and glory!
They cannot give me my darling back.
o hateful beauty that fooled and drew him
False pride unbendng 0 cruel lie
loved, yet mine the hand that slew him,
And drove him forth i'll the fight to die.
My wreck went down in the storm out yonder:
What have I saved from te's despair
What dream has my spirit left to ponder ?
This one loye-letter, this lock OF hair.
Fair Nature signs in her short-ived sorrow,
Then robes her form in mantle gay:
She weeps to- day, but she smiles tomorrow
Over the flowers that strew her way;
But alas for me there is returning
OF spring tide flowers summer prime
By days of sorrow and nights of yearning
Changed and sobered before my time!
From the daily struggle 1 shrink and shiver,
A dropping flower aIhirst for rain;
My lie is LOST like rapid river
That siuks from sight in the arid plain;
For | scorned the gift of a true hearts treasures
Loves crown that crowned me, flung it by;
The world knows naught OF my grief's dark measure
My lites deception lie lie!
Ah my heart is sad and my life is lonely;
Its dreary burden | scarce can bear:
From night to morning my prayer is only
To cease from troubling ami meet Him There
So yield my days in a meek surrender
To Him who orders and knows them best;
For feel that His loving hands and tender
Will take the spirit which longs for rest.
EDWARD RENAUp.