Songs of Two

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Songs of Two, by Arthur Sherburne
Hardy
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Title: Songs of Two
Author: Arthur Sherburne Hardy
Release Date: December, 2005 [EBook #9465]
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Edition: 10
Language: English
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0. START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SONGS OF
TWO ***
Produced by Ted Garvin and PG Distributed Proofreaders
SONGS OF TWO
BY ARTHUR SHERBURNE HARDY
1900
SONGS OF TWO
I
Last night I dreamed this dream: That I was dead;
And as I slept,
forgot of man and God,
That other dreamless sleep of rest,
I heard a
footstep on the sod,
As of one passing overhead,--
And lo, thou,
Dear, didst touch me on the breast,
Saying: "What shall I write
against thy name
That men should see?"
Then quick the answer
came,
"I was beloved of thee."
II
Dear Giver of Thyself when at thy side,
I see the path beyond divide,

Where we must walk alone a little space,
I say: "Now am I strong
indeed
To wait with only memory awhile,
Content, until I see thy
face,--"
Yet turn, as one in sorest need,
To ask once more thy giving
grace,
So, at the last
Of all our partings, when the night
Has
hidden from my failing sight
The comfort of thy smile,
My hand
shall seek thine own to hold it fast;
Nor wilt thou think for this the
heart ingrate,
Less glad for all its past,
Less strong to bear the
utmost of its fate.
III
As once through forest shade I went,
I heard a flower call, and bent--


Then strove to go. Should love not spare?
"Nay, Dearest, this is
love's sweet share
Of selfishness. For which is best,
To die alone or
on thy breast?
If thou hast heard my call,
Take fearlessly, thou art
my guest--
To give is all"
Hush! O Love, thou casuist!
IV
Ask me not why,--I only know,
It were thy loss if I could show

Thee cause as for a lesser thing.
Remember how we searched the
spring,
But found no source,--so clear the sky
Within its earth
bound depths did lie,
Give to thy joy its wings,
And to thy heart its
song, nor try
With questionings
The throbbing throat that sings.
V
For in thy clear and steadfast eyes
Thine own self wonder deepest lies,

Nor any words that lips can teach
Are sweeter than their wonder
speech.
And when thou givest them to me,
Through dawns of
tenderness I see,--
As in the water-sky,
The sun of certainly appear.

So, ask me why,
For then thou knowest, Dear.
VI
To give is more than to receive, men say.
But thou hast made them
one! What if, some day,
Men bade me render back the gifts I cannot
pay,--
Since all were undeserved! should I obey?
Lo, all these years
of giving, when we try
To own our thanks, we hear the giver cry;

"Nay, it was thou who givest, Dear, not I."
If Wisdom smile, let
Wisdom go!
All things above
This is the truest; that we know
because we love,
Not love because we know.
VII
Let it not grieve thee, Dear, that Love is sad,
Who, changeless, loveth
so the things that change,--

The morning in thine eyes, the dusk

within thy hair,
Were it not strange
If he were glad
Who cannot
keep thy heart from care,
Or shelter from the whip of pain
The
bosom where his head hath lain?
Poor sentinel, that may not guard

The door that love itself unbarred!
Who in the sweetness
Of his
service knows its incompleteness,
And while he sings
Of life
eternal, feels the coldness of Death's wings.
VIII
Stoop with me, Dearest, to the grass
One little moment ere we pass

From out these parched and thirsty lands,
See! all these tiny blades
are hands
Stretched supplicating to the sky,
And listen, Dearest,
patiently,--
Dost thou not hear them move?
The myriad roots that
search, and cry
As hearts do, Love,
"Feed us, or let us die!"
IX
Beloved, when far up the mountain side
We found, almost at eventide,

Our spring, how far we did fear
Lest it should dare the trackless
wood
And disappear!
And lost all heart when on the crest we stood

And saw it spent in mist below!
Yet ever surer was its flow,
And,
ever gathering to its own
New springs of which