Louisa Sarah Bevington Poems

OUR oneness is the wrestlers', fierce and close,
Thrusting and thrust;
One life in dual effort for one prize,--
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PURPLE headland over yonder,
Fleecy, sun-extinguished moon,
I am here alone, and ponder
On the theme of Afternoon.
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YOU ask me where love fails me?--what I hate?
I cannot blame, for all, I hold, is fate;
Yet there are hateful, unblameworthy things
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LOVE that is alone with love
Makes solitudes of throngs;
Then why not songs of silences,--
Sweet silences of songs?
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OH, when have after-days or evenings brought
Forgiveness home to penitence downcast?
Oh, when has trust been perfect,--honour fast,--
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The most beautiful thing around or above
Is Love, true Love:
The beautiful thing can more beautiful be
If its life be free.
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I WANDERED yesternight 'twixt sleep and sleep
On the wild outmost coast of consciousness,
Where beat forever waves of paradox,
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FULL of songs he woke one morning,
Every song a weighty wonder
Holding universal being
Newly dressed in words of thunder.
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A TEAR welled up from a poet heart
And fell on a rose;
Lay there, bitter, and made it smart,--
The red, red rose!
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SWEET were the faiths our wishes bred; cruel is faithless fate;
All things show good or evil as we love them or we hate;
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