Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward Poems

Was there ever message sweeter
Than that one from Malvern Hill,
From a grim old fellow-you remember?
...

'All the rivers run into the sea.'
Like the pulsing of a river,
The motion of a song,
Wind the olden words along
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That heart were something cold, I think,
That on the light of stars relied
For daily fire; and cruel is
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'Would I could see!' I heard one say but now,
'The strongest woman and the tenderest man
That ever God had dared put in the world!'
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Within the window's scant recess,
Behind a pink geranium flower,
She sits and sews, and sews and sits,
From patient hour to patient hour.
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Of Peter's daughter, it is said, men told,
While yet she breathed, a tale as sad as life,
As sweet as death; which, now she sleeps, has lent
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Heart of iron, smile of ice,
Oh! the rock.
See him stand as dumb as death.
If you could,
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The shadows watch about the house;
Silent as they, I come.
Oh, it is true that life is deaf,
And not that death is dumb.
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Atalanta and I know better!
Distrust you the fable of old,
Of the envious Goddess who set her
On to defeat by tempting her soul
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If an angel that I know
Should now enter, sliding low
Down the shaft of quiet moonlight that rests upon the floor;
...