Poems eBook

Denis Florence MacCarthy
This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 107 pages of information about Poems.

  This day it was—­Ah! years ago,
Long years ago, when dumb I stood
Beside that little grass-green mound—­
Would I had lain beneath the mound!—­
  And gazed out through my briny tears,
  Upon the future lonely years,
  Upon the cold, bleak, cheerless years,
Till Earth should ope her grassy breast,
And take me to my welcome rest,
Where she in Death’s cold arms lay prest;
This day it seems—­Ah me! this day,
  Though years ago—­sad years ago.

  This day it was—­Ah! years ago,
Long years ago; and yet I still
Gaze through moist eyes upon the Past,
The cherish’d, unforgotten Past;
  Gaze onward through the coming days,
  And wonder, with a sweet amaze,
What sunrise with its rosy light
Will bring her to my longing sight;
  What sunset with its golden glow
  Will o’er the long-sought slumber flow,
Amid whose visions she shall gleam,
As once she did through youth’s sweet dream,
  Ah! years ago—­long years ago.


From the darksome earth-mine lifted,
  From the clay and from the rock
  Loosen’d out with many a shock;
Slowly from the clay-dross sifted,
  Molten in the fire bright-burning,
  Ever purer, whiter turning—­
Ho! the anvil, cool and steady,
For the soften’d rod make ready!

Blow, thou wind, upon the flame,
  Raise it ever higher, hotter,
  Till, like clay before the potter,
Soft become the iron frame,
  Bending at the worker’s will,
  All his purpose to fulfil—­
Ho! the fire-purged rod is ready
For the anvil, cool and steady!

At each stroke the sparks fly brightly
  Upward from the glowing mass;
  Hail! the stroke that makes them pass,
Fall it heavy, fall it lightly! 
  Now the stubborn strength bends humbly,
  To the Master yielding dumbly;
From the metal, purged and glowing,
Forms of freest grace are flowing.

Wield thine hammer well, strong arm! 
  Strength to Beauty [*] wedded brings
  Glory out of rudest things,
  Facts from mere imaginings;
Strike from steel its hidden charm! 
  Little reck the rocks the blow
  That makes the living water flow;
Little recks man’s soul the rod
That scourges it through tears to God.

[Footnote:  Vulcan was wedded to Venus.]


The days are past, the days are past,
  When we did meet, my love and I;
And youthful joys are fading fast,
  Like radiant angels up the sky;
But still with every dawning day
  Come back the blessed thoughts of old,
Like sunshine in a morn of May,
  To keep the heart from growing cold.

The flowers are gone, the leaves are shed,
  That waved about us as we stray’d;
And many a bird for aye has fled,
  That chaunted to us from the glade;
Yet every leaf and flower that springs
  In beauty round the ripening year,
And every summer carol brings
  New sweetness from the old time dear.

Project Gutenberg
Poems from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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