Ada Cambridge Poems

The red-rose flush fades slowly in the west.
The golden water, basking in the light,
Pales to clear amber and to silver white.
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Thy love I am. Thy wife I cannot be,
To wear the yoke of servitude — to take
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The dawn of God’s dear Sabbath
Breaks o’er the earth again,
As some sweet summer morning
After a night of pain;
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Every wild she-bird has nest and mate in the warm April weather,
But a captive woman, made for love -- no mate, no nest has she.
In the spring of young desire, young men and maids are wed together,
And the happy mothers flaunt their bliss for all the world to see:
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1.

Every wild she- bird has nest and mate in the warm April weather,
But a captive woman, made for love — nor nest, nor mate
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I.
AS flower to sun its drop of dew
Gives from its crystal cup,
So I, as morning gift to you,
This poor verse offer up.
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1.

I know now why the world was sad,
With so much good to make it glad;
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Me let the world disparage and despise --
   As one unfettered with its gilded chains,
   As one untempted by its sordid gains,
Its pleasant vice, its profitable lies;
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One hour ago the crimson sun, that seemed so long a-drowning, sank.
The summer day is all but done. Our boat is moored beneath the bank.
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1.

Should'st thou, in grip of dread disease,
Foresee the day when thou must die
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