Poems (Howard)/To One Unknown

by Hattie Howard

For works with similar titles, see To One Unknown.

To One Unknown.

Although I know not who thou art,
Or if we're near, or far apart,
Thou hast completely won my heart,
  My dear incognito!
And all my fancies round thee twine,
Whose footsteps seem to follow mine,
The reason why I can't divine,—
  No matter where I go.

If I, when care-oppressed and lone,
Discouraged by an undertone
Of sadness, not by right my own,
  Could fly to one like thee,
Whatever ills might mark my lot,
I'd bear in resignation, wrought
Of hope-inspiring counsel fraught
  With love and sympathy.

Oh, thought-environed mystery!
Because of my perplexity,
The day's sweet grace is lost to me;
  Thou hovering entity!
Why dost thou coyly veil thy face,
And hide securely every trace
That leadeth to thy dwelling-place,
  And thy identity?

Why may I not, dear angel true,
Entreat from thee my rightful due,
Just one delightful interview?
  So long I've pondered o'er
What ever led thee to commence,
Without the slightest recompense,
A course of true beneficence
  At my unworthy door.

Assured of thy sincere regard,
I should be happy, were life marred
By Fortune's buffets, rude and hard:
  Be blest were I untaught,
Obscure, devoid of courtesy,
To win from one I know must be
All goodness and urbanity
  So oft a friendly thought.

I've sketched thee, often and again,
Upon the tablet of my brain,
And there the picture must remain
  As long as life shall last.
For Mem'ry's hand, though thou art gone,
Shall kindly, ever and anon,
Bring back the image, fancy drawn,
  When fleeting years have passed.

Perchance we ne'er shall mingle here
In thought, or drop a grief-ful tear
Together o'er a common bier,
  Or recreate in mirth;
Then may we clasp each other's hand
Within the borders of that land,
Where we shall meet and understand
  The mysteries of earth.