Originally published in Tinsley's Magazine (Tinsley Brothers) vol.1 #4 (Nov 1867).
I.
No, darling, I am not crying. I have not been thinking at all;
I've been watching the fire flames flash and leap, and the embers crumble and fall:
No, I am not cold or tired, and my head does not ache, not much—
No more than an old, old wound might do, just shrinking from sudden touch.
II.
Nay, love, had I ever a sorrow but was shared and lightened by you?
Had I ever a joy that I did not bring for your gladness to prove it true?
My autumn will scarcely doubt, I think, what my summer has proved so well;
Let me kiss those loving lips to peace—indeed I have nothing to tell.
III.
What do I see in the fire? Why, the ghost of an eager face,
With blue eyes asking—for what? ah, what?—and a smile whose pathetic grace,
If once one loved it, would haunt one's life, like the ring of a beautiful rhyme;—
Did you ever silence, by reason or will, that mystical musical chime?
IV.
If 1 said dear,—it is in idleness all that I picture it there to-day,
Till I hold my breath to catch the words the parting lips would say;
In idleness all, or in something worse, for a quiet woman to do.
I forget that my girlhood is gone, you see, as I sit in the gloaming with you.
V.
Nay, darling, you know I am happy—my life is so richly crowned;
I am only 'dowly' a little—O, the thrill in the homely sound!
Give me your soft hand, sister—come closer, closer—there,
Till the firelight gleams on the gracious head, with its glory of red-gold hair.
VI.
Speak in the dear old whisper—speak of our girlish days,
When, free and fearless, we laughed to read our fate in the flickering blaze;
Speak, till the quiet music soothes this dull unceasing pain,
Till the phantom fades from the caverned coals, and the want from the weary brain.
VII.
It is hard to yearn so bitterly for what may never be won;
It is hard to dream so holily, and wake to an evil done.
Ah, love me, sister; morning mists still shrink 'neath the noonday beams;
Surely the steady love of a life will banish these fever dreams.