10.08.2014, 13:23
THE REFLUENT WAVE
I
DAILY we dwell beneath the self-same roof ;
Our unaverted eyes meet as of yore ;
In small fair household courtesies, as before.
Our self-forgetfulness is put to proof;
We tread a common path, nor hold aloof
From the old scenes which erstwhile wreathed our door
With Eden's early grace, yet more and more
Our woven lives are severed, warp and woof.
Not now, as once, a simple flower imparts
Its tender tale to our united souls;
Our hands clasp, but no answering gladness starts
Wave-like from zones where love's deep ocean rolls;
We speak, we smile, we mingle, yet our hearts
Are sundered each from each wide as the poles.
II
Still— still — who knows? a touch, a tear, a sigh,
A sweet remembered word, some sudden way
Of speech, awaking memories of a day
When earth laughed forth in bloom, and all the sky
Grew opulent with love's own vermeil dye, —
Who knows but one of these, like magic, may
Restore the glory, and the rapturous sway,
Within the heart, of hair and lip and eye?
Echoes that haunt the silence of the past,
Visions of joy that keep a vigil vain.
Fond ghosts that wander in the rayless, vast,
Unhallowed night with empty cries of pain, —
Who knows but these may all prevail at last,
And love's receding wave rush back again ?
I
DAILY we dwell beneath the self-same roof ;
Our unaverted eyes meet as of yore ;
In small fair household courtesies, as before.
Our self-forgetfulness is put to proof;
We tread a common path, nor hold aloof
From the old scenes which erstwhile wreathed our door
With Eden's early grace, yet more and more
Our woven lives are severed, warp and woof.
Not now, as once, a simple flower imparts
Its tender tale to our united souls;
Our hands clasp, but no answering gladness starts
Wave-like from zones where love's deep ocean rolls;
We speak, we smile, we mingle, yet our hearts
Are sundered each from each wide as the poles.
II
Still— still — who knows? a touch, a tear, a sigh,
A sweet remembered word, some sudden way
Of speech, awaking memories of a day
When earth laughed forth in bloom, and all the sky
Grew opulent with love's own vermeil dye, —
Who knows but one of these, like magic, may
Restore the glory, and the rapturous sway,
Within the heart, of hair and lip and eye?
Echoes that haunt the silence of the past,
Visions of joy that keep a vigil vain.
Fond ghosts that wander in the rayless, vast,
Unhallowed night with empty cries of pain, —
Who knows but these may all prevail at last,
And love's receding wave rush back again ?