11 matches.

Bevington, Louisa Sarah (Guggenberger) : Key-notes (1879)

Contents.

• Upward 1
• January 4
• Unto This Present 5
• Morning 22
• Afternoon 24
• Twilight 26
• Midnight 28
• February 31
• Two Songs--I. With the Tide 33
• Two Songs--II. Up Stream 36

  [Page x]

• Sonnet 38
• March 39
• A Song of Silence 41
• Easter 43
• April 45
• Temptation 49
• Drifting 56
• A Fragment 61
• The Motto 63
• May 65
• A Test 66
• "Who Will Show Us Any Good" 68
• The Song-Bird, and the Fairy 70
• Sonnet 73
• June 74

  [Page xi]

• The Stammerer 78
• Sonnet 80
• A Modern Moral 81
• Summer Song 85
• July 87
• The Fatalist 90
• Sonnet 92
• Roses 93
• August 95
• Far And Near 97
• The Story of a Scarlet Flower 99
• For Woman's Sake 102
• Eclipse 103
• September 105
• Love and Pride 108

  [Page xii]

• My Flower 110
• October 112
• An Old Thought, Thought Anew 117
• Unfulfilled 122
• November 124
• Deprecation 125
• December 127
• Listening 131

[Page 4]

JANUARY.

(A SONNET.)AWAY into the past the minutes slide,
    Dies the old year and dies my old distress,
    Comes the new year and comes new blessedness,
And every sheathèd bud a hope doth hide.
And every little life may well abide
    What yet remains of winter, and caress
    Its prison-walls confidingly, and bless
Kind sternnesses that sway the seasons' tide.
For tender is the clasp wherewith the snow
    Clasps the sad earth of winter; very fair
    The faint blue chillness of the moonlit air
In frost-bound midnight. I will rise, and go
Out in the herald hush where stars move slow,
    And wait the new year's calm birth-moment there.


[Page 38]

SONNET.

1870.A LITTLE brook doth babble and doth dance,
    And in its eddies trap a sunny ray,
    And toy with it, and split it every way
Till thousand seeming gems dazzle and glance.
The summer earth lies in a lovely trance,
    While a blithe song-bird on the o'erhanging spray
    Trills forth his mirth all through the livelong day;
And some have said this world is ruled by Chance.
O broad, blue lift? wherein the sun is set,
    Whence the stars peep and sparkle all the night,
I'll hymn the reign of Love and Purpose yet,
    Fit names for chance that issues in your light--
Most happy Chance! such beauties chance to be;
I, too; with ears that hear, and eyes that see.


[Page 65]

MAY.

(A SONNET.)DIE not, my hope! it is the month of May,
    A fair, fair moon of consummated loves,
    Of boughs bloom-laden and of cooing doves,
And garland-weaving children at their play;--
Fail not, my courage, while the world is gay
    With wealth of sunlit green, and liquid song;
    The tender air that lifts the clouds along
Claims echo from thy mood at least to-day.
So shall it fare. Flow May-time into me
And set my soul from its own vision free;
I will not own a frown upon the air
That all the sweet young flowers find so fair.
The gravest reading of my song shall be
A wistful gladness steadied by a cast-off care.


[Page 73]

SONNET.

1874.YOU ask, what have you given?--how solaced me?--
    You, whom 'tis duty that I see no more
    Lest I should claim--you, give--from your heart's store
Too largely of a perfect sympathy.
This have you wrought: you gave it me to be
    A strong-winged spirit that can give you o'er,
    You showed me a brave sake to battle for,
You dowered me with a new self-mastery.
This: and, ah! love,--'tis very much to know
    The sweet, sad truth and reason of our pain,
    The deathless, passionate faith that links us twain
How far soever sundered we may go.
'Tis much to think that should our love--our woe
Grow mortal, it must bring us heart to heart again.


[Page 80]

SONNET.

1872.THERE is a scepticism born of love,
    Rooted in longing for the doubted thing,
    In which the weary heart goes questioning,
Nor dare believe what most it yearns to prove.
There is a dread lest further light bring woe;
    As in our human love's intensity,
    That dares not trust for lack of certainty,
So, faintly pines perhaps where joy should glow.
There is a duty for love-grounded doubt,
Not in forgetting, but in finding out;
Take thou thy wish, assume its truth, and act;
    For finding out still lies in trial made,
    Truth aye is wholesome, be it light or shade;
Doubt is a bootless pain; thy hope may grow to fact.


[Page 92]

SONNET.

1876.I THOUGHT I was quite happy yesterday;
    I thought I was, and told mine own heart so,
    But in the telling felt a tremor go
Down thro' the joy that clove a secret way
To where a little shivering sorrow lay
    Deeper than joy, and yet I do not know
    Whether, if I could kill that hidden woe,
The joy might not be driven too away,
So close the twain are. Nay, in our best life
So blent are pain and gladness, rest and strife,
To make our draughts of joy quite pure and clear
Fate drops into the cup a human tear;
A sigh for one who may not share its bliss
Will sometimes rise and mingle in love's own dear kiss.


[Page 124]

NOVEMBER.

(A SONNET.)O SADNESS of November! when, forlorn,
    The grey year has outlived her latest leaf,
    And lies, too dim and numb for any grief,
Between fruition past, and hope unborn;--
When fog inertly shrouds unbeauteous morn
    In pulseless and dishevelled apathy
    That cares not if the day begin to be,
So futureless it is--so very worn!
Such moods are ours when life outlives its love
    And has no tears, nor any warm regret;
When sense hangs soulless as the clouds above
    That lack the force to rain; but linger yet
Veiling drear things that live not any more,
Yet are not dead enough to bury and deplore.