Song III

WE loved, my love, and now it seems
Our love has brought to birth
Friendship, the fairest child of dreams,
The rarest gift of earth.

Soon die love's roses fresh and frail,
And when their bloom is o'er,
Not all our heart-wrung tears avail
To give them life once more.

But when true love with friendship lives,
As now, for thee and me,
Love brings the roses--Friendship gives
Them immortality.

poem by Edith Nesbit
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The Guardian Angel

WHEN my good-nights and prayers are said
And I am safe tucked up in bed,
I know my guardian angel stands
And holds my soul between his hands.

I cannot see his wings of light
Because I keep my eyes shut tight,
For, if I open them, I know
My pretty angel has to go.

But through the darkness I can hear
His white wings rustling very near;
I know it is his darling wings,
Not Mother folding up my things!

poem by Edith Nesbit
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The Last Defeat

Across the field of day
In sudden blazon lay
The pallid bar of gold
Borne on the shield of day.
Night had endured so long,
And now the Day grew strong
With lance of light to hold
The Night at bay.

So on my life's dull night
The splendour of your light
Traversed the dusky shield
And shone forth golden bright.
Your colours I have worn
Through all the fight forlorn,
And these, with life, I yield,
To-night, to Night.

poem by Edith Nesbit
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The Gift Of Life

Life is a night all dark and wild,
Yet still stars shine:
This moment is a star, my child -
Your star and mine.

Life is a desert dry and drear,
Undewed, unblest;
This hour is an oasis, dear;
Here let us rest.

Life is a sea of windy spray,
Cold, fierce and free:
An isle enchanted is to-day
For you and me.

Forget night, sea, and desert: take
The gift supreme,
And, of life's brief relenting, make
A deathless dream.

poem by Edith Nesbit
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En Tout Cas

WHEN I am glad I need your eyes
To be the stars of Paradise;
Your lips to be the seal of all
The joy life grants, and dreams recall;
Your hand, to lie my hands between
What time we walk the garden green.

But most in grief I need your face
To lean to mine in the desert place;
Your lips to mock the evil years,
To sweeten me my cup of tears,
Your eyes to shine, in cloud's despite,
Your hands to hold mine through the night.

poem by Edith Nesbit
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The Nest

That was the skylark we heard
Singing so high,
The little quivering bird
We saw, and the sky.
The earth was drenched with sun,
The sky was drenched with song;
We lay in the grass and listened,
Long and long and long.

I said, 'What a spell it is
Has made her rise
To pour out her world of bliss
In that world of skies!'
You said, 'What a spell must pass
Between sky and plain,
Since she finds in this world of grass
Her nest again!'

poem by Edith Nesbit
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Before Winter

The wind is crying in the night,
Like a lost child;
The waves break wonderful and white
And wild.
The drenched sea-poppies swoon along
The drenched sea-wall,
And there's an end of summer and of song -
An end of all.

The fingers of the tortured boughs
Gripped by the blast
Clutch at the windows of your house
Closed fast.
And the lost child of love, despair,
Cries in the night,
Remembering how once those windows were
Open and bright.

poem by Edith Nesbit
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Silence

So silent is the world to-night
The lamp gives silence out like light,
The latticed windows open wide
Show silence, like the night, outside:
The nightingale's faint song draws near
Like musical silence to mine ear.

The empty house calls not to me,
'Here, but for fate, were thou and she--'
Its gibe for once is checked. To-night
Silence is queen in grief's despite,
And even the longing of my soul
Is silent 'neath this hour's control.

poem by Edith Nesbit
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Envoys

BROWN leaves forget the green of May,
The earth forgets the kiss of Spring;
And down our happy woodland way
Gray mists go wandering.

You have forgotten too, they say;
Yet, does no stealthy memory creep
Among the mist wreaths, ghostly gray,
Where spell-bound violets sleep?

Ah, send your thought sometimes to stray
By paths that knew our lingering feet.
My thought walks there this many a day,
And they, at least, may meet.

poem by Edith Nesbit
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Surrender

Oh, the nights were dark and cold,
When my love was gone.
And life was hard to hold
When my love was gone.
I was wise, I never gave
What they teach a girl to save,
But I wished myself his slave
When my love was gone.

I was all alone at night
When my love came home.
Oh, what thought of wrong or right
When my love came home?
I flung the door back wide
And I pulled my love inside;
There was no more shame or pride
When my love came home.

poem by Edith Nesbit
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