Poems and Songs (1862). Aileen
A splendid sun betwixt the trees Long spikes of flame did shoot, When turning to the fragrant South, With longing eyes and burning mouth, I stretched a hand athwart the drouth, And plucked at cooling fruit. So thirst was quenched, and hastening on With strength returned to me, I set my face against the noon, And reached a denser forest soon; Which dipped into a still lagoon Hard by the sooming sea. All day the ocean beat on bar And bank of gleaming sand; Yet that lone pool was always mild, It never moved when waves were wild, But slumbered, like a quiet child, Upon the lap of land. And when I rested on the brink, Amongst the fallen flowers, I lay in calm; no leaves were stirred By breath of wind, or wing of bird; It was so still, you might have heard The footfalls of the hours. Faint slumbrous scents of roses filled The air which covered me: My words were low—"she loved them so, In Eden vales such odours blow: How strange it is that roses grow So near the shores of Sea!" A sweeter fragrance never came Across the Fields of Yore! And when I said—"we here would dwell,"— A low voice on the silence fell— "Ah! if you loved the roses well, You loved Aileen the more." "Ay, that I did, and now would turn, And fall and worship her! But Oh, you dwell so far—so high! One cannot reach, though he may try, The Morning land, and Jasper sky— The balmy hills of Myrrh. "Why vex me with delicious hints Of fairest face, and rarest blooms; You Spirit of a darling Dream Which links itself with every theme And thought of mine by surf or stream, In glens—or caverned glooms?" She said, "thy wishes led me down, From amaranthine bowers: And since my face was haunting thee With roses (dear which used to be), They all have hither followed me, The scents and shapes of flowers." "Then stay, mine own evangel, stay! Or, going, take me too; But let me sojourn by your side, If here we dwell or there abide, It matters not!" I madly cried— "I only care for you." Oh, glittering Form that would not stay!— Oh, sudden, sighing breeze! A fainting rainbow dropped below Far gleaming peaks and walls of snow And there, a weary way, I go, Towards the Sunrise seas.
Henry Kendall’s other poems:
