The Poetry Corner

The Criminal's Betrothed.

By Marietta Holley

As on a waveless sea, a vessel strikes Upon a treacherous rock; Waking the sailors from their happy dreams By the swift, terrible shock. Dreaming of shaded village streets, and home, Forgetting the cruel sea Till the shock came - so woke I, yet I know 'Twas Love, I loved, not he. 'Tis not the star the wave so wildly clasps, Only its form reflected in the stream; 'Tis not a broken heart I mourn, Only a broken dream. I should have died when he was brought so low, Had it been him I loved, Died clinging to him, as to the blasted oak The ivy clings unmoved. 'Twas Love that looked on me with strange, sweet eyes Burning with marvellous flame; Love was the idol that I worshipped, though I gave to it his name. I gave to Love his name, his glance, his brow, His low-toned voice, his smile, Oh, soul be patient; I can sever them But yet a little while - Before I put away these outward forms Deceiving, sweet disguises, which Love wore Let my heart break into regretful tears Just once, and then no more. Just once, as fond friends watch the fading sail Bearing away a guest of truest worth, They give this little time to grief, and then Return to their desolate hearth, And build new fires, and gather dewy flowers, Let the pure air into the vacant room, So light, and bloom, and sweetness, all Shall penetrate its gloom. I will be patient, in a little time Quiet, and full of rest, Gods's peace will come, and, like a soft-winged bird, Settle upon my breast. Not always thus shall beat my restless heart Like a wild eagle 'gainst its prison-bars; In some calm twilight of the future time I will sit, calm-browed, underneath the stars.