With life’s full meed of dreams fulfilled, of love and laughter, I have known Heaven here. If there is more hereafter, I do not fret impatiently to know; nor weep If journey’s end is but a long surcease in sleep.
The road was long and steep before I reached the crest With risen evening star to bid me pause and rest; So weary children, after playing in the sun, Are softly called to home and sleep, when day is done.
I linger on a grassy knoll; a woodbird sings And twilight brings the hushed caress of mystic wings. I am content to sleep. I do not ask to see Beyond the canopy of stars spread over me.
His dream ship floats on seas of amethyst And leaves a wake of star-flamed sapphire foam. The Dreamer stands on deck in lonely tryst Under the mantle of the purple dome. As soft winds stir the sails to beckoning goals, The ship sways gently toward one side and then, To lullaby of cradling waves, it rolls In even cadence slowly back again.
The Dreamer sees the gleaming stars appear In downward swing, until they seem to be Almost within his reach, they loom so near, Only to draw away to apogee. He may not grasp the stars as they pass by, But sadder far would be a starless sky.
When I was vexed with care and strain, My solace was your tenderness. For every sorrow, every pain, Your love was there, to heal and bless.
When years of thankless toil slipped past, I found my guerdon in your eyes; And when life’s laurels came at last, Your tears of gladness were my prize.
When love was young and hearts were gay, Who minded wintry weather? All snugly bundled in the sleigh We sallied forth together.
When cheeks were flushed and lips were warm, Who minded snowflakes clinging? Our joy rang out above the storm In tune with sleigh bells ringing.
Through sunset glow and first star-bright, What brought the tender yearning? We glided home toward candlelight And warmth of Yule logs burning.
I have seen a bluebird on the wing Above a field in gold and scarlet hue; A spray of apple blossoms in the spring In shimmering light against a sky of blue.
I have known the joy of perfect days, A grassy bank, a stream in jeweled glow; Then oak and maple leaves in autumn blaze, And pines in winter, aureoled in snow.
Lily, refulgent in petals of white, Fair ballerina, enchanting the night, Kissed by the moonlight, you slowly unfold Beauty, in bodice of velvet and gold.
Motionless . . . quivering . . . held in a trance . . . Dew-spangled, twinkling like stars in your dance, Raptured, you sway to the nightingale’s tune, Turning your face to your lover, the moon.
I leap upon my horse and dash away Past farms and orchards blanketed with snow; I race against the softly fading day To gain the heights suffused in afterglow.
Through fragrant forest aisles we slow our pace Where tall crowned pines and balsams make their stand; The snow-heaped hemlock branches brush my face As I survey a winter wonderland.
Dismounting near the summit of my quest, I climb the ridge until my goal is won; With pounding heart I pause upon the crest And view the glory of the dying sun.
Then homeward bound I give my horse the rein; He lopes along beneath the starry dome. He sniffs familiar air and speeds once more In one last gallop toward the lights of home.
Against the city’s gleaming spires, Above the ships that ply the stream, A bridge of haunting beauty stands — Fulfillment of an artist’s dream.
From deep beneath the tidal flow Two granite towers proudly rise To hold the pendent strands aloft — A harp against the sunset skies.
Each pylon frames, between its shafts, Twin Gothic portals pierced with blue And crowned with magic laced design Of lines and curves that Euclid knew.
The silver meshings of the net Are beaded with the stars of night Like jeweled dewdrops that adorn A spiderweb in evening light.
Between the towers reaching high A cradle for the stars is swung; And from this soaring cable curve A latticework of steel is hung.
Around the bridge in afterglow The city’s lights like fireflies gleam, And eyes look up to see the span — A poem stretched across the stream.
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