, 1874-03-29

- &UiHGA I3oIueAE Ea{liS 70 {HH, one HIyp
| Now Luried deep In tha old heart Of time,
| and clustered round with sunset mepaAriea.
| That pour mellow lustre on ms path,
Unseen BY oth6r eyes:
Formed by Gods hand, se9uesered in the bills,
Embowered with ivy nnd with eglantine,
Wherein the pure and pesrly-toolei morn
Entered With Joy; and where the thouaand hghta
ot op1is. a9nset n,lngied, ?, Angertng lovingly,
Aud Vs'!od their daiuty faces In the leaves.
One auQmez-1sy wandered there alone
patned with the weary passions Of the world;
It's sortlid friendships, woong me for galn /.
Confused with all Its hollow sophiBtrita;
Ciutch'ug my din, gro e5Que i,nagiuings;
HTalding my morbid fAnc!es into rhvmeB.
l nerer loved the world: never sought
The nolaome p'audts Of its bahlllrg tonguea,
Nor touched its baubes with fnSer-ttp:
ny days have d: been 81 r:nkled otr With tears
Saddeoed With longing after sympathy-
WIN T=at and frnitcss vearniug after love.
MY ways have been among the slaves of toll:
hlT bread 1s won In lungeou-dens OF tell;
My soul IL ehatned to iron wheels Of toll
Ny heart IL t41eaking In the gyrea Of toil.
ona summer day trod upon the world:
My fsee heel bruised the tnonster'd hyd1a-he3d
grew monarch In dowery realm
Just whan the great Sun 1t his crimson hrea,
Filling the hollow Nest with clouds Of hame,
nashine the Eainbow lghsa along the world,
Painting the fosents with touch divine,
Flooding the va!leJa with ep,eRdor DIM,
Kind'ipg strange beauties OIL the sleeping bills.
"a presence. gentle - the evenings hush,
Came like soft 1ustre filtered from the stara,
Gliding into my dreams swees Ida Lee
tender English girl. with s.arlke eyes,
AMI bounding ssep. and checks incarnadine
And lips that parted but in melody.
Ard hatr That aosted Ike a Summer cloud
About tho slu-
think 1t waa not love,
For scar cely twice the had Wzut,3 nn1 h1}aA
8 nee first the gracious Eates transpanted her,
i :sra exotic, from the cultured seenea
That twinea al toCt the henri with snken touch
And clasp. its tendri's to the life Of LIE.
Not love! but something. when abe spota my nane,
Stood still 4momeat, ihen throbbod painfully.
QAsh1ng the hEatcll blood into my train
Until rceled.
,3sshe 'came to ssy good-hye":
She "hopea nwould foryet her We must part:
The Easas had 10 decreed It," Brokcnly
Thase woEda were uttered, wniio held her close,
With trembling arms. II have been happy here
Oh, happier than the angels aro in Heaven
1or osEs az 1ne 9 sos0ns
sut leave cav my ny fs 5tsna = ss I'D seE ace
Tue great tears conquered; aud her slender forn
Shook with emotlou.
Ny poor lips were dumb;
A thousand passions q,uyered IN my frs.ne:
And in that moment all the summer world
Faded TO Less than nothing At her feet:
My soul fell down an1 wo-ehi,ed her a. God
Not lore-not loFe-uut udd iIoiatrgI
How long she tarricl I shall neyar know:
dreamed that bissful cons rolled away
IL glory, % she PLACED her crowned head.
Upon sny breast, while t1emu1ous Of hoas
Ripplc1 along hsr Shoulders But the spell
Dissolved, at lsst- Her kiss upon my lipa
Was like draught OF festa1 wine to one
That thrseth bs the wayside Hike the tfera
That keep The tropic sun,rner green or Ike
Tho balm Of pity 70 the wounded heart
At last ne parted. Down the winding path
She gidet, hike sunbeam, from my sight,
Leaving the world desctt-waste. She went
To meet frowning father at ths door:
For he 1t WAS who stood betwixt our lives
4 stately churl, wearing the hosry crown
That claims respect. OFT, In the busy street,
He bent his knotted brows End scowlcd 1T me,
And goaded me with ill-disguised coniennt,
Till, spita Of feeble stop AMI silver hairs,
I must lave scourge1 him iu the yc.rkc.-rl
But that be vas her father. Ida loved
The fnicat hair upon his aged head:
Aud her transmitting presenca bad d rh1tm
10 MAKE a::s.. gentle. But he hated me,
God knows for what aud IL conn: ii far
The sweetest duty that have In life
To reperenca hoaEy hairs. Moat w1ilinp1v
Had he not spuFned me from his house and heart,
would have boIae Liz burdens, every oue:
Wou!d have cleared the tno1ns from out his path
With bleeding hands.
Alas Of What avail
Are empty wurda !? The tales Of ihvarted loss
Are dun to 1],en ea1R: aud those who scan
These broken echoes Of lonely life
VII pass them lightly BY. The worldly man,
.sho counts Fo1nans Aass Us naugat, will sneer
and call me fool; but can ne'rr forget
That summer night, When tho red sunset died
ai4.ong the hills, and au the world grew dark
Ind horrible,
The seas divide us now,
Tossing white breaAera on the windy shorex-
The past Is seaied forever: Ida Lee
! holy memory in my heart Of hcar:z.
CHICAGO, 1874.