Poems (Waldenburg)/A Human Heart
A HUMAN HEART.
I oped the door of a deserted room, And entered where for many a lonely yearNo step had crossed the threshold of its gloom, Or hand let in the sunlight's warmth and cheer.
The air was heavy as an ancient tomb; The light fell wanly on the faded wall;And on the ruined grandeur of the room The dust-like ashes lay, o'er covering all.
And eltrich was it in this silent room; A perfume hovered like the winds of spring,Or passionate roses in their early bloom, And back the vanished Past to me did bring!
For I was happy once within this place, Far from the cares of life that 'round me pressed;Here fled I to my tender Love's embrace And was within her snowy arms at rest.
Kisses the gods had envied in their heaven; Whispers far sweeter than the nightingale,Within this chamber long ago was given, Whi'e in the sky the stars and moon shone pale!
Here is the cushion where her dear head laid; The mirror, that her form reflected fair,And 'round her beauteous face a halo made With the bright glory of her shining hair.
And here, oh God, the ancient clock still stands! On its bronze pedestal the same doth seemAs when with swinging tongue and hastening hands It told the flying hours of my dream!
I haste with trembling steps across the floor, Beneath my feet each crumbling timber bends;The curious wind intruding by the door The dust in whirling clouds around me sends
Then starts within the clock a sudden sound; The pendulum swings slowly to and fro,And achingly, the rusty spindles 'round, The weary wheels essay their course to go.
The hands they shiver on its pallid face, Once, twice, and thrice, it strikes with desperate willThen 'ere the echoes die within the space Stands as before, stern, motionless and still.
And there I pondered on a human heart, Whose Love and spring long since had passed away,That through the years lay silent and apart, Far from the bloom and sunlight of the day.
Until Remembrance entered thro' the room Listless and dumb it lay, this weary heart;She, whispered of past joys and roses' bloom, Then like the clock the heart did pulsing start,Throb once, twice, thrice, in hopeless, longing pain, And then was covered with the dust again!