You were always a dreamer, Rose, red Rose,
As you swung on your perfumed spray.
Swinging, and all the world was true,
Swaying, what did it trouble you ?
A rose will fade in a day.
Why did you smile to his face, red Rose,
As he whistled across your way ?
And all the world went mad for you,
All the world it knelt to woo.
A rose will bloom in a day.
I gather your petals. Rose, red Rose,
The petals he threw away.
And all the world derided you ;
Ah ! the world, how well it knew
A rose will fade in a day.
Dear, in wintry weather,
How close we crept together !
The storms, with all their thunder,
Could not our fond hands sunder.
No sorrow followed after
Cold words or scornful laughter.
How close we crept together,
Through all the wintry weather !
Dear, when each rose uncurled
To its sweet narrow world,
You went to cull its glory ;
You would not hear my story,
Too sweet the birds were singing,
Too fair the buds were swinging.
If I should come or go
You did not care to know.
Laughter and song for my cheer,
Life is so fair.
None so happy as I
Anywhere ;
Birds in the woods carol clear,
White clouds in the sky.
Song silent and brow with a frown,
Why is this so ?
Guiltless am I
Would you know,
The lark from the heavens drops down ;
Grey clouds in the sky.
Sighing and tears for my sorrow,
Life is so drear,
None so weary as I,
'Tis a mere
Now God between us and all harm,
For I to-night have seen
A banshee in the shadow pass
Along the dark boreen.
And as she went she keened and cried
And combed her long white hair,
She stopped at Molly Reilly's door,
And sobbed till midnight there.
And is it for himself she moans,
Who is so far away ?
Or is it Molly Reilly's death
She cries until the day ?
Now Molly thinks her man is gone
A sailor lad to be ;
She puts a candle at her door
Each night for him to see.
At Pompeii I heard a woman laugh,
And turned to find the reason of her mirth ;
Saw but the silent figure of a girl
That centuries had mummied into earth :
The running figure of a little maid
With face half-hidden in her shielding arm,
Silent, yet screaming, yea, in ev'ry limb
The cruel torture of her dread alarm.
At Pompeii I heard a maiden shriek
All down the years from out the distant past ;
Blind in the awful darkness still she runs ;
Death in the mould of fear her form has cast.
A little maid once soft and sweet and white,
Full of the morning's hope, and love and joy,
That Nature, moving to the voice of Time,
Shook her dark wings to wither and destroy.
The green has come to the leafless tree,
The earth brings forth its grain ;
The rose has come for the honey bee :
You will not come again.
The birds have come to the empty nest,
All winter full of rain ;
Music has come where the silence was :
You will not come again.
Love swift will come for the weak lambs' cry ;
Ah for my heart's dull pain !
Lone in the cycle of change am I :
You will not come again.
I CLOSED my hands upon a moth
And when I drew my palms apart,
Instead of dusty, broken wings,
I found a bleeding human heart.
I crushed my foot upon a worm
That had my garden for its goal,
But when I drew my foot aside
I found a dying human soul.
When the dark comes,
" Is this the end ? " I pray ;
No answer from the night,
And then once more the day.
I take the world again
Upon my neck and go
Pace with the serious hours.
Since fate will have it so,
Begone, dead man, unclasp
Your hands from round my heart,
I and my burden pass.
You and your peace depart.
I PRAYED SO eagerly,
" Turn and see
How bitter I have striven —
A word and all forgiven."
I prayed so eagerly.
I prayed so eagerly —
Not to be ;
You turned and passed. Goodbye !
Fates smile for me, dreamed I —
Yet I prayed eagerly.
I STRUCK you once, I do remember well.
Hard on the track of passion sorrow sped,
And swift repentance, weeping for the blow ;
I struck you once — and now you're lying dead !
Now you are gone the blow no longer sleeps
In your forgiveness hushed through all the years ;
But like a phantom haunts me through the dark,
To cry, " You gave your own beloved tears."
Stript now of all excuses, stern and stark.
With all your small transgressings dimmed or fled,
The ghost returns the blow upon my heart.
I struck you once — and now you're lying dead.
Let there be an end
And all be done ;
Pass over, fair eclipse,
That hides the sun.
Dear face that shades the light
And shadows me,
Begone, and give me peace,
And set me free.
In the heart of a rose
Lies the heart of a maid ;
If you be not afraid
You will wear it. Who knows ?
In the pink of its bloom,
Lay your lips to her cheek ;
Since a rose cannot speak,
And you gain the perfume.
If the dews on the leaf
Are the tears from her eyes ;
If she withers and dies,
Why, you have the belief,
That a rose cannot speak,
Though the heart of a maid
In its bosom must fade.
And with fading must break.