Henry Laurie (22 September 1837- 14 May 1922 / Comely Bank, Edinburgh)
CALM and fair
Flows the stream of Nora’s life,
Moving with a lazy air
Far from strife.
Must have looked from just such eyes,
Full of still felicities,—
(For endeavour mars perfection),
And, one almost fancies, never
Far too cold
Seems that face for dream of mine,
Though, if set in sculptured mould,
As she stands
Looking from the window forth,
Gazing o’er the sunny lands
To the north,
Light and shade
Cross and quiver to and fro,
By the she-oak’s tresses made,
In the breeze;
But no varying light you trace,
Save from flittings such as these,
On her face.
On her daily household ways,
Little can you see for loving,
Much for praise.
Sets her quiet life aglow,
And, whene’er she hears his tone,
Then, I know
That her form
Has a richer, fuller grace,
And the colour rushes warm
To her face.
From her eyes
All the hidden life peeps out,
From her lips strange melodies
Thoughts and hopes, unguessed before,
Gleam, till Love can ask of her
’Tis as though,
Walking on a charmèd shore,
Blind to all the gleam and glow
Which it bore,
On our sight
Flashed the flush of roses blowing,
Dewdrops sparkling in the light,
For at last
One had come, whose star-tipt wand
Woke to gladness, as he passed
Through the land.
Shall we then
Grudge the favoured one his due?
Fate gives wands to other men,
While we wander to and fro,
Flowers may blossom here and there
As we go.
Lives are bound
Each to each by secret spell,
And a fairy-land lies round
Us as well.
Comments about this poem (Nora by Henry Laurie )
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