268
BERTHA IN THE LANE.
"For sights of things away,
Through fissures of the clay,
Promised things which shall be given
And sung over, up in Heaven,—
Through fissures of the clay,
Promised things which shall be given
And sung over, up in Heaven,—
"For life, so lovely-vain,—
For death, which breaks the chain,—
For this sense of present sweetness,—
And this yearning to completeness!"
For death, which breaks the chain,—
For this sense of present sweetness,—
And this yearning to completeness!"
Bertha in the Lane.
Put the broidery-frame away,
For my sewing is all clone!
The last thread is used to-day,
And I need not join it on.
Though the clock stands at the noon,
I am weary! I have sewn
Sweet, for thee, a wedding-gown.
For my sewing is all clone!
The last thread is used to-day,
And I need not join it on.
Though the clock stands at the noon,
I am weary! I have sewn
Sweet, for thee, a wedding-gown.
Sister, help me to the bed,
And stand near me, Dearest-sweet,
Do not shrink nor be afraid,
Blushing with a sudden heat!
No one standeth in the street?—
By God's love I go to meet,
Love I thee with love complete.
And stand near me, Dearest-sweet,
Do not shrink nor be afraid,
Blushing with a sudden heat!
No one standeth in the street?—
By God's love I go to meet,
Love I thee with love complete.
Lean thy face down! drop it in
These two hands, that I may hold
'Twixt their palms thy cheek and chin,
Stroking back the curls of gold.
'Tis a fair, fair face, in sooth—
Larger eyes and redder mouth
Than mine were in my first youth!
These two hands, that I may hold
'Twixt their palms thy cheek and chin,
Stroking back the curls of gold.
'Tis a fair, fair face, in sooth—
Larger eyes and redder mouth
Than mine were in my first youth!
