Poems (Cary)/Annuaries

ANNUARIES.
I.
A year has gone down silentlyTo the dark quiet of the Past,Since I beneath this very treeSat hoping, fearing, dreaming, last;Its waning glories, like a flame,Are trembling to the wind's light touch—All just a year ago the same,And I—oh! I—am changed so much!
The beauty of a wildering dreamHung softly round declining day;A star of all too sweet a beamIn Eve's flushed bosom trembling lay;Changed in its aspect, yet the same,Still climbs that star from sunset's glow,But its embrace of beauteous flameNo longer clasps the world from wo.
Another year shall I return,And cross this solemn chapel floor,While round me memory's shrine-lamps burn—Or shall this pilgrimage be o'er? One that I loved, grown faint with strife,When drooped and died the tenderer bloom,Folded the white tent of young lifeFor the pale army of the tomb.
The dry seeds dropping from their pods,The hawthorn apples bright as dawn,And the grey mullen's starless rods,Were just as now a year agone;But changed is everything to me,From the small flower to sunset's glow,Since last I sat beneath this tree,A year—a little year—ago.
I leaned against this broken bough,This faded turf my footstep pressed;But glad hopes that are not there now,Lay softly trembling in my breast—Trembling, for though the golden haze,Rose, as the dead leaves drifted by,As from the Vala of old days,The mournful voice of prophecy.
Give woman's heart one triumph hour.Even on the borders of the grave,And thou hast given her strength and powerThe saddest ills of life to brave;Crush that far hope down, thou dost bringTo the poor bird the tempest's wrath,Without the petrel's stormy wingTo beat the darkness from its path.
Once knowing mortal hope and fear,Whate'er in heaven's sweet clime thou art,Bend, pitying mother, softly near,And save, O save me from my heart!Be still, oh mournful memory,My knee is trembling on the sod—The heir of immortality,A child of the eternal God.
II.
When last year took her mournful flight,With all her train of wo and ill,As pale processions sweep at nightAcross some lonesome burial hill—My soul with sorrow for its mate,And bowed with unrequited wrong,Stood knocking at the starry gateOf the wild wondrous realm of song.
Hope from my noon of life was gone,With all the sheltering peace it gave,And a dim twilight stealing on,Foretold the night-time of the grave.Past is that time of wild unrest,Hope reillumes its faded track,And the soft hand of love has prestDeath's deep and awful shadows back.
A year agone, when wildly shrillThe wind sat singing on this bough,The churchyard on the neighboring hillHad not so many graves as now. Yet am I spared—God knoweth why,And by the hand of Fancy led,The same as in the years gone by,Musing this idle rhyme I tread.
When the May-morn, with hand of light,The clouds about her bosom drew,And o'er the blue, cold steeps of nightWent treading out the stars like dew—One, whose dear joy it had been oursTwo little summer times to keep,Folded his white hands from the flowers,And, softly smiling, fell asleep.
And when the northern light streamed coldAcross October's moaning blast,One whose brief tarrying was foretoldAll the sweet summer that was past,Meekly unlocked from her young armsThe scarcely faded bridal crown,And in death's fearful night of stormsThe dim day of her life went down.
Above yon reach of level mistBright shines the cross-crowned spire afar,As in the sky's clear amethystThe splendor of some steadfast star;And still beneath its steady lightThe waves of time heave to and fro,From night to day, from day to night,As the dim seasons come and go.
Some eager for ambition's strife,Some to love's banquet hurrying on,Like pilgrims on the hills of lifeWe cross each other, and are gone;But though our lives are little drops,Welled from the infinite fount above,Our deaths are but the mystic stopsIn the great melody of love.
III.
Vailing the basement of the skiesOctober's mists hang dull and red,And with each wild gust's fall and rise,The yellow leaves are round me spread;'Tis the third autumn, aye, so long!Since memory 'neath this very bough,Thrilled my sad lyre strings into song—What shall unlock their music now?
Then sang I of a sweet hope changed,Of pale hands beckoning, glad health fled,Of hearts grown careless or estranged,Of friends, or living, lost, or dead.O living lost, forever lost,Your light still lingers, faint and far,As if an awful shadow crossedThe bright disk of the morning star.
Blow, autumn, in thy wildest wrath,Down from the northern woodlands, blow!Drift the last wild-flowers from my path—What care I for the summer now! Yet shrink I, trembling and afraidFrom searching glances inward thrown;What deep foundation have I laid,For any joyance not my own?
While with my poor, unskilful hands,Half hopeful, half in vague alarm,Building up walls of shining sandsThat fell and faded with the storm,E'en now my bosom shakes with fear,Like the last leaflets of this bough,For through the silence I can hear,"Unprofitable servant, thou!"
Yet have there been, there are to-dayIn spite of health, or hope's decline,Fountains of beauty sealed awayFrom every mortal eye but mine;Even dreams have filled my soul with light,And on my way their splendor left,As if the darkness of the nightWere by some planet's rising cleft.
And peace hath in my heart been born,That shut from memory all life's ills,In walking with the blue-eyed mornAmong the white mists of the hills.And joyous, I have heard the wailsThat heave the wild woods to and fro,When autumn's crown of crimson palesBeneath the winter's hand of snow.
Once, leaving all its lovely mates,On yonder lightning-withered tree,That vainly for the springtime waits,A wild bird perched and sang for me;And listening to the clear sweet strainThat came like sunshine o'er the day,My forehead's hot and burning painFell like a crown of thorns away.
But shadows from the western heightAre stretching to the valley low,For through the cloudy gates of nightThe day is passing, solemn, slow,While o'er yon blue and rocky steepThe moon, half hidden in the mist,Waits for the loving wind to keepThe promise of the twilight tryst.
Come thou, whose meek blue eyes divine,What thou, and only thou canst see,I wait to put my hand in thine—What answer sendest thou to me?Ah! thoughts of one whom helpless blightHad pushed from all fair hope apart,Making it thenceforth hers to fightThe stormy battles of the heart.
Well, I have no complaint of wrath,And no reproaches for my doom;Spring cannot blossom in thy pathSo bright as I would have it bloom.
IV.
Oh, sorrowful and faded years,Gathered away a time ago,How could your deaths the fount of tearsHave troubled to an overflow?I muse upon the songs I madeBeneath the maple's yellow limbs,When down the aisles of thin cold shadeSounded the wild bird's farewell hymns
But no sad spell my spirit bindsAs when, in days on which it broods,October hunted with the windsAlong the reddening sunset woods.Alas, the seasons come and go,Brightly or dimly rise and setThe days, but stir no fount of wo,Nor kindle hope, nor wake regret.
I sit with the complaining night,And underneath the waning moon,As when the lilies large and whiteLay round the forehead of the June.What time within a snowy graveClosed the blue eyes so heavenly dear,Darkness swept o'er me like a wave,And time has nothing that I fear.
The golden wings of summer's hoursMake to my heart a dirge-like sound,The spring's sweet boughs of bridal flowersLie bright across a smooth-heaped mound. What care I that I sing to-dayWhere sound not the old plaintive hymns,And where the mountains hide awayThe sunset maple's yellow limbs?
V.
On the brown, flowerless meadow liesThe wraith of summer; oat flowers brightNod heavy on her death-blind eyes,Smiling with melancholy light.And Autumn, with his eyelids redDrooped to her beauty, sits to-day,His sad heart sweetly comfortedBy storms upon their starless way.
Seasons continuous, mingling, thrillOur souls, as notes that sweetly blend,Until we cannot, if we will,Tell where they or begin or end.And while the blue fly sings so well,And while the cricket chirps so low;In the bright grass, I scarce can tellIf there be daisy-flakes, or snow.
But when along the slumberous blue,And dreamy, quiet atmosphere,I look to find the April dew,I know the Autumn time is here.The lampless hollow of the skiesIs full of mists, or blank, or dun;Where all day, soft and warm, there liesA shadow that should be the sun.
The winds go noiseless on their way,Scarcely the lightest twig is stirred;Not through the wild green boughs of MaySlips the blue lizard so unheard.Under the woolly mullen, flatAgainst the dust, together creepThe shining beetles; and the batIs drowsing to his winter sleep.
The iron-weeds' red tops are down,Wilted from all their summer sheenThe fennel's golden buds are brown,  And loneliest in all the scene:Hither and thither lightly blowsA white cloud o'er the darkening wood,Like some unpastured lamb that goesClimbing and wandering for food.
But plenty gladdens all the world,For corn is ripe, if flowers be o'er;Autumn, with yellow beard uncurledIn summer's grave-damps, sigh no more!Sigh no more, Autumn! sigh no more—For if the blooming boughs have shedTheir pleasant leaves, the light will pourSo much the brighter on thy head.
And while thy mourning voice is staidI'll play my pipe, so adding onAnother to the rhymes I madeEre youth, my pretty mate, was gone. Winds, stirring through the pinetops high,Or hovering on the ocean's breast,Blow softly on the ways that lieSloping and brightening toward the West.
Blow softly, for my thoughts would sweep,Upon your still and beauteous waves,Back to the woodlands green and deep,Back to the firesides and the graves—The firesides of the rosiest glow,The graves wherein my kindred rest;Winds of the Northland, softly blow,And bear me to the lovely West.
There linger sweetest voices yet,That ever soothed from grief its pain;There glow the hills with suns long set,And there my heart grows young again.The hope which in the crimson boughsShut up her wings dim years away,Sits with her wan and crownless browsLeaned on the sodded grave to-day.
For when the last sweet vision diedShe nursed for me, there fell a nightCloudy and black enough to hideHer smile's almost eternal light.When the unkenneled whining winds,Went last year tracking through the snow,My heart was comforted with friendsGone on the last long journey now—
Who in the middle heavens can viewThe noontide sun without a sigh—A yearning for the faded dewWhere morning's broken splendors lie.And from the glory up above,My eyes come down to earth and markThe pain, the sorrow for lost love—The awful transit to the dark.
Weak and unworthy, still I live,Harvests and plenteous boughs to see;My God! how good thou art to giveSuch blessings as I have to me.Oh! add to these all needful grace—Divide me from that proud disdain,Climbing against the sunless baseOf an eternity of pain.
VI.
Once more my annual harp! alas,'Tis the sixth season nearly runSince the brown lizard through the grassCrept slow, and took the autumn sun:Since the wild maple boughs aboveShook down their leaves of gold and red,The while I made my song of love—If there be angels overhead
Methinks before their watchful eyesThey well may cross their wings and rest;What need they guardians in the skiesWho with a human love are blest? Ah me! what wretched storms of tearsHave made maturer life a dearth,—For the white visions of young yearsGrow dimmer than the common earth?
In vain! the swart October brings,In its rough arms, no April day—The ousel plunges its wild wingsBut in the rainy brooks of May.The rose that in the June time rainComes open, could not, if it wouldShut up its red-ripe leaves again,And go back to a blushing bud.
And when the step is dull and slow,And when the eye no longer beamsWith the glad hopes of years ago,What purpose has the heart with dreams?Away, wild thoughts of sorrow's flood—Wild dreams of early love, away!In calm and passionless womanhood,Why come ye thronging back to-day?
And you, ye questionings that rise,Of life and death and hope's surcease,Seal up again your mockeries—Peace, peace! I charge you give me peace!And let me from the pain and gloomGather whatever seems like truth,Forgetful of the opening tomb,Forgetful of the closing youth.
Fain would my thoughts a searching goFor one who left me years away—Haply the unblest grasses growUpon his sweet shut eyes, to-day.Oft when the evening's mellow gleamFalls slantwise o'er some western hill,And like a ponderous, golden beamLies rocking—all my heart grows still,
Listening and listening for the fallOf his dear step, the cold moon shinesBetimes across the southern hall,And the black shadows of the vinesO'erblow the mouldy walls, and lieHeavy along the winding walks—Where oft we set, in Mays gone by,Streaked lady-grass and hollyhocks.
Within a stone's throw seems the skyAgainst the faded woods to bend,Just as of old the corn-fields lie;But we, oh, we are changed, my friend!Since last I saw these maples fade,The locusts in the burial groundHave wrapt their melancholy shadeAbout a new and turfless mound.
And one who last year heard with meThe summer's dirges wild and dread,Has joined the peaceful companyWhom we, the living, mourn as dead. Turning for solace unto thee,Oh, Future! from the pleasures gone,Misshapen earth, through mists I see,That fancy dare not look upon.
God of the earth and heaven above,Hear me in mercy, hear me pray—Let not one golden stran of loveFrom my life's skein be shorn away.Or if, in thy all-wise decree,The edict be not written so,Grant, Lord of light! the earnest pleaThat I may be the first to go.
And when the harper of wide spaceShall chant again his mournful hymn,While on the summer's pale dead faceThe leaves are dropping thick and dim—When songs of robins all are o'er,And when his work the ant forsakes,And in the stubbly glebe no moreThe grasshopper his pastime takes—
What time the gray-roofed barn is full,The sober smiling harvest done,And whiter than the late washed wool,The flax is bleaching in the sun—The friends who sewed my shroud, sometimesShall come about my grave: in tearsRepeating over saddest rhymesFrom annuaries of past years.