Elizabeth Gould - Stray Pebbles from the Shores of Thought

The third was laid away with him,
A kiss for heaven's day,
(O heart abide God's way) —
When in the life beyond earth's change,

Beyond these mysteries sad and strange,
New life will spring from out the old,
New thoughts will larger truth unfold,
And love have endless sway.

If I were only sure
He loves me still,
As in the realms of beauteous space
(Alas! so far from my embrace)
He bides God's will,
I could be more content to bear
The bitter anguish and despair
Which now me fill.

If I were only sure
He waits for me
To join him in the heavenly realm
(Oh, how the thought does overwhelm)
When body-free,
I could the better bear my fate,
As day by day I learn to wait
In silent agony.

O Father, in my doubt
One thing is sure,
That Thou, all love, could ne'er destroy
(Death only is in earth's alloy)
Such love so pure
As that which blessed our union here,
The love which knew no change nor fear —
Such must endure.

The days are happy here, dear,
But happier would they be
Could'st thou be near to bless me
With love's sweet ministry;

Then all this beauty round me
Would on my memory lie,
As prayers of sainted mother,
Or childhood's lullaby.

Oh! ecstasy rare
Comes down to share
The heart that with human love trembles;
While all on the earth
Is crowned with new birth
And everything heaven resembles.

But grief and despair
Have latent their share
In hearts that with human love tremble,
Since fires of love
Enkindled above
In frail earthen vessels assemble.

Still, ecstasy rare
Comes down to share
The heart that with human love trembles;
While all on the earth
Is crowned with new birth
And everything heaven resembles.

She picks me June roses.
Were ever such roses?
Their fragrance would honor
The heavenly halls.

She finds me pet pansies.
Such wondrous-eyed pansies,
And lovely nasturtiums
That run on the walls.

Sweet peas she's now bringing,
While all the time singing.
And I? Ask the flowers
To tell what befalls.

Would I were beautiful!
Then you at Beauty's shrine might freely dine,
A welcome guest
For joy's bequest.
But, dear, if this were so, —
If I were Beauty's child, all undefiled,
To make you blest
In beauty's quest,

You might forget to see
The soul's pure hidden shrine wherein e'er shine
The things that test
Love's true behest.
Would I were beautiful,
That you might better see the soul in me!
That wish is best,
Is 't not, dearest?

Oh, the prayer of a dear virgin-heart,
Breathed forth with true love's gentle art!
Is there anything purer
On land or on sea,
More laden with blessing
For you or for me?

It is sweeter than song ever heard,
More precious than love's spoken word.
It is fraught with a keen recognition
Of truest soul-need and fruition.
Is there anything purer
On land or on sea,
More laden with comfort
For you or for me?

It is oftentimes born in great pain,
With no ray of hope's blessed gain.
But as lulled by the angels at midnight
Ere reaching the infinite daylight
Is there anything surer,
On land or on sea,
To bring the God-Father
To you or to me?

Through all this summer joy and rest,
Though lying on fair Nature's breast,
There breathes the longing heart's desire,
Would he were here!

The thrill of pain kind Nature feels;
For all the while there o'er me steals
Like holy chimes in midnight air,
"He'll soon be here."

And flowers and trees, vales, hills, and birds
Make haste to echo her glad words,
"He'll soon be here."

Sing too, little bird, what my heart sings to-day.
Dost thou know? —
I'll speak low —
"Oh, I do love him so."

Hold safe, waving grass, in thy rhythmical flow,
What I say,
Till the day
When as sweet new-mown hay

Thou can'st bear it to him in the fragrance loved best.
Thou dost fear? —
Oh, love dear,
How I wish thou wert here!

But pause, little cloud, thou canst carry it now,
I am sure,
Sweet and pure,
Though the winds do allure;

For thou art on the way to the west where he is.
But dost know? —
Tell him low,
"That I do love him so,
Oh! I do love him so."

God's love was once enough
My heart to satisfy,
When in the days of childhood's faith
I knew not doubt or sigh.

But since I saw Roy's face,
And knew his love's sweet cheer,
And felt the anguish and despair
Which come from partings here,

So hungry have I grown
No love can satisfy,
And all my childhood's faith in God
Doth mock me as a lie.

But still in these dark hours
I hold one anchor fast:
Perhaps this is the woman's way
To reach God's love at last.

The deepening years have proved
Love's conquest justified.
The woman's hungry heart at last
In God is satisfied.

Has Love come?
Ah, too late!
Already Death stands o'er me
With hungry eyes that bore me —
O cruel fate,
That after all life's years
Of sacrifice and tears,
'Tis Death, not Love, that wins.
But, stay! This message bear,
Ere yet Death's work begins:
"In other realms earth's losses
Will change from saddening crosses
To love-crowned joy,
Where Death shall have no mission,
But Love his sweet fruition
Without alloy."

'Twas much he asked – a virgin heart
Unknown to worldly ways.
What could he give? Ah, well he knew
He lacked sweet virtue's praise.

The virgin heart was given to him
Without a doubting thought,
When, lo! through seeming sacrifice
A miracle was wrought;

A miracle of love and grace,
Revealing woman's power;
For, clothed in purity, he rose
To meet the coming hour.

Last night the ocean's moan
Was to my ears
The deep sad undertone
Of vanished years,

Bearing a burden,
A bliss unattained,
A strife and a longing,
A life sad and pained,
To the shores vast and free
Of eternity's sea.