Classic Poem

NORA, BORN IN JUNE .

Clear as her cloudless eyes
O'er cliff and glen and mountain's distant line
Undimmed by haze or mist, serenely shine
The deep-blue summer skies.

Fair as her sunny hopes,
The red rose bursts, the lilies white unfold,
The lotos lifts her chalice lined with gold,
The star-flowers gem the slopes;

And leaping waters play,
And gay winds pipe, and lark and linnet sing
As if each innocent and happy thing
Would greet her natal day.

We bring her gentle gifts:
Bright blossoms with their loving type and token;
Lichens and mosses; curious crystals broken
From hoary cavern-rifts;

Music of bard and seer;
Legend and classic song, and ancient rhymes
Echoed from far phantasmal century chimes
To her enraptured ear;

And I—I steal apart,
As scanning each with loving eyes she stands,
Her happy talk, like ripples over sands,
Cheering my thirsty heart.

O Saviour meek and mild!
Cradled, Thyself, upon a mother's knee,
I kiss Thy precious feet—I beg of Thee
All blessings for my child!

Thou Shadow of a Rock
Within a weary land! Protect her life
From misery's desert heat, from sin's mad strife,
From sorrow's lightning-shock.

Love's fairest fruit and flower
Give unto her, and friendship's holiest ties;
That her existence, like these shining skies,
May brighten every hour;

Till, calm from morn to night,
Her day of earth a golden day may end
Fairest at setting, and forever blend
With heaven's unfading light.

Yet nay. Too much I ask,
And am too fearful. Only they attain
The evening welcome who, with patient pain,
Fulfil the noonday task.

Give to her spirit, then,
Thy rod and staff to walk the ways of life,
Thy shield and buckler to ward off the strife—
Th' unholy strife of men.

Each precious lesson point
That earth's meek creatures teach. On sea and land
Show how each high or lowly thing Thy hand
With wisdom doth anoint.

Whether her lines be cast
In the choked city's panting thoroughfare,
Or 'midst the blessed woodland's treasures rare,
Or by the ocean vast—

Oh, tune her subtle ear,
Pained by the discord of earth's warring notes,
To know the heavenly prophecy that floats
From brook and bird-song clear;

Show to her serious eyes
The golden legend writ as in a book
Upon the steadfast mountain-tops that look
Forever toward the skies;

And bid the ocean's roar
Tell her of harpers harping with their harps
Where shines the light of God, where sorrow warps
The burthened soul no more.

So may her heart, replete
With holy courage, seek the victor's crown,
Till, all her journey done, she shall sit down
With Mary at Thy feet.