The Morristown gazette. [volume] (Morristown, Tenn.) 1867-1920, 1875-12-01
swHEN MY SHIP COMES IN
BY MISS EVA WILLIAMS.

BY MISS EVA WILLIAMS.
The sunshine, rosy ana golden,
Yves kissing the earth good night,
And slowly was crossing the hilltop,
Withdrawing from human sight.
a child, sat idly dreaming
Beautiful dreams Of youth
Roseate visions of fancy,
Unknowing of wOmanhood's ruth
felt not the sweet breath of summer
Softly caressing my brow,
Nor the gladstone voices Of childhood
Oh, would l could hear them now 4!
But my brain was weaving it's fancies
The golden threads we spin
OF a future glad fruition,
The day when my ship comes in >
And these are the visions that glided
Before my childish eyes
Visions of brighter seeming
Than tints of summer skies:
III be not LADY, but WOMAN,
When my good ship comes in,
With heart and sympathy human
For the world of grief and sin, -
a woman with noble purpose,
With high and holy aim,
Seeking to strengthen the weary,
he wandering to reclaim.
THE angels have left to xgonaan
The work that erst was theirs
The work to point the wandering
From earth's beguiling snares
So when my good ship comes sailing
From over the heaving tide,
Bearing maturity's treasures
And womanhood's queenIy pride,
g l pray it may come to me laden
With the heart of a woman brave.
Fearing not aught save shining
Such hearts as our mothers have
A loving heart and tender,
Yet full of a noble pride,
Scoring the weakness that rather
Would drift than stem the tide
Squirting the worlds deceiving,
The mask society wears,
The kissing with Judas kisses,
The smiling that wisdom fears
The basilisk cleaning of friendship
That fires the hypocrite's eye,
And CLOSES with painted semblaRce
A life of infamy.
The true, the good, the noble.
Shall be welcome to my heart.
Whether bedecked with purple,
Or poverty's thread-bare art.
Sometimes l catch glory
And hear a strain of music
That grander voices sing
I" Than those I hear around me
In notes of sorrowing earth
Or the song of Joy and gladness.
Tine gIees of thOughtless mirth.
But when my ship comes near me
Shadows shall substance be-
The songs shall be completed,
Perfect the harmony
Then these proud gifts possessing,
The gifts of heart and brain
| shall taste the giIded gloFies
That wealth's proud votaries drain.
al build me palace the fairest,
When my good ship comes in,
With carvings and paintings the rarest,
so soon as my ship comes in
All earth to me shall be Eden
No sorrow or Carking care
And Happiness, Love, and Beauty,
Alone shall find entrance there
My friends shall be fair and loving,
And as true as Heaven is true
OF trusts betrayed and hopes shattered,
I'll taste not the bitter rue.
" No farewells or sad separations
No tearing asunder Of ties
That bind loving hearts together
No moaning or tear-stained eyes
No gOod-byes without hope of meeting
The bitteTest of all farewelIs
Given on the brink of the river
That into eternity swells
''No kissing Of lips cold and silent
With loves last fond caress,-
No clinging to pulseless marble
With infinite tenderness.
So patiently / am bidIng
What is and what has been
For all shall be forgotten
When WomanhOod's ship comes in"
~ III
The years of childhood feeting,
The gambler, Time, doth win;
And ere l dreamed her near me,
My bonnie barque sailed in.
l sit in the cleaning
To count my treasures Ger
The gifts long have waited |
The rich and goodly store.
Brief search in the fulI-stored cargo,
And know my ship doth bear
Things that l scarce can picture
Of pleasure and of care.
They tell us that childhood's hours
Bring joys more pure and sweet
That these are rarest flowers
That bloom under childish feet.
ct these joys tho fraught with sweet
ness,
Have not the depth and the power
Of the feelings that come in their fullness
As part of Womanhoods DOVER
Whose joys are not measure by laughter,
Nor their sorrows gagged by tears,
But have hottest peace and pleasure
OFT born OF pains and fears.
30 the summer breeze can never
Wake the full soul of the harp,
But it breathes its richest music [sharp.
When touched by the night winds
Ind though my ship has brought me
Griefs that are not a few
taste of the Hyblan honey
And a store of the bitter rue
Though friends not all are constant,
And trust Outlines must die;
Though voices sweet as heaven
Have ceased their melody. .-.s5t
While my grand palace is builded
Only in Dreamland's sheen,
md never a page in livery
Within my door is seen;
let life il still rich in meaning,
And full Of glorious work,
md fields of richest fruitage
For hands that do not shirk.
o when, on coming morrow,
Departs our little band
% wait the curious vessels
That now approach the land,
,et us go with hearts unflinching,
Ready to nobly bear
Whatever Of joy or sorrow
In the future be our share.
- vl1F oatY shin he fadnn