The Poetry Corner

Incompleteness.

By Sophie M. (Almon) Hensley

Since first I met thee, Dear, and long before I knew myself beloved, save by the sense All women have, a shadowy confidence Half-fear, that feels its bliss nor asks for more, I have learned new desires, known Love's distress Sounded the deepest depths of loneliness. I was a child at heart, and lived alone, Dreaming my dreams, as children may, at whiles, Between their hours of play, and Earth's broad smiles Allured my heart, and ocean's marvellous tone Woke no strange echoes, and the woods' complain Made chants sonorous, stirred no thoughts of pain. And if, sometimes, dear Nature spoke to me In tones mysterious, I had learned so much Dwelling beside her daily, that her touch Made me discerning. Though I might not see Her purpose nor her meaning, I had part In the proud throbbing of that mighty heart. But now the earth has put a tiring-cloth About her face; even in the mountains' cheer There is a lack, and in the sea a fear, The glad, rash sea, whose every mood, if wroth Or soothing mild, is dear to me as are Joy's new-born kisses on the lips of Care. Since I have known thee, Dear, all life has grown An expectation. As the swelling grain Trembles to harvesting, and earth in pain Travails till Spring is born, so felt alone Is the dumb reaching out of things unborn, The night's gray promise of the amber morn. I long to taste my pleasures through thy lips, To sail with thee o'er foaming waves and feel Our spirits rise together with the reel Of waters and the wavering land's eclipse; To see thy fair hair damp with salt sea-spray And in thine eyes the wildness of the way. I long to share my woods with thee, to fly To some black-hearted forest where the trail Of mortals lingers not, - to hear the gale. Sweep round us with a shuddering ecstasy, To feel, night's tumult passed, the cool soft hand Of the untroubled dawn move o'er the land. To swim with thee far out into the bay, A trembling glitter on the waves, the shore Glowing with noontide fervor, nevermore To fear the treacherous depths, though long the way. Sweet beyond words the sighs that breathe and blow, The moist salt kisses, and the glad warm glow. And when the unrest, the vague desires that rush Over our lives and may not be denied, - Gone in the tasting, - lure us where the tide Of men sweeps on, let us forget the hush Together, and in city madness drain Our cup of pleasure to its dregs of pain. Ever I need thee. Incomplete and poor This life of mine. Yet never dream my soul Craves the old peace. Till I may have the whole My joy is my abiding, and what more Of dreams and waking bliss the Fates allow Comes as a gift of Love's great overflow.