Anticipation

I had a vision in the summer light--Sorrow was in it, and my inward sightAched with sad images. The touch of tearsGushed down my cheeks:--the figured woes of yearsCasting their shadows across sunny hours.Oh, there was nothing sorrowful in flowersWooing the glances of an April sun,Or apple blossoms opening one by oneTheir crimson bosoms--or the twittered wordsAnd warbled sentences of merry birds;--Or the small glitter and the humming wingsOf golden flies and many colored things--Oh, these were nothing sad--nor to see Her,Sitting beneath the comfortable stirOf early leaves--casting the playful graceOf moving shadows in so fair a face--Nor in her brow serene--nor in the loveOf her mild eyes drinking the light aboveWith a long thirst--nor in her gentle smile--Nor in her hand that shone blood-red the whileShe raised it in the sun. All these were dearTo heart and eye--but an invisible fearShook in the trees and chilled upon the air,And if one spot was laughing brightest--thereMy soul most sank and darkened in despair!--As if the shadows of a curtained roomHaunted me in the sun--as if the bloomOf early flow'rets had no sweets for me,Nor apple blossoms any blush to see--As if the hour had brought too bright a day--And little birds were all too gay!--too gay!--As if the beauty of that Lovely OneWere all a fable.--Full before the sunStood Death and cast a shadow long before,Like a dark pall enshrouding her all o'er,Till eyes, and lips, and smiles, were all no more!