Page:Selections from the American poets (IA selectamerpoet00bryarich).pdf/252
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Robert M. Charlton.
As half in fear, along the stranger's dress,Then, half advancing, yields to his caress:Then peers beneath his locks, and seeks his eyeWith the clear look of radiant infancy,The cherub smile of love, the azure of the sky. The stranger now is kneeling by the sideOf that young mother, watching for the tideOf her returning life: it comes: a glowGoes faintly, slowly o'er her cheek and brow:A rising of the gauze that lightly shroudsA snowy breast, like twilight's melting clouds,In nature's pure, still eloquence, betraysThe feelings of the heart that reels beneath his gaze.
TO THE RIVER OCEECHEE.
Oh wave that glidest swiftly On thy bright and happy way,From the morning until evening, And from twilight until day,Why leapest thou so joyously, While coldly on thy shoreSleeps the noble and the gallant heart, For aye and evermore?
Or dost thou weep, oh river, And is this bounding wave,But the tear thy bosom sheddeth As a tribute o'er his grave!And when, in midnight's darkness, The winds above thee moan,Are they mourning for our sorrows, Do they sigh for him that's gone!
Keep back thy tears, then, river, Or, if they must be shed,Let them flow but for the living, They're needless for the dead.