Poems (Sharpless)/Lines Written on My Twenty-first Birthday
LINES WRITTEN ON MY TWENTY-FIRST BIRTHDAY
Entering upon the smooth and easy path
Of early womanhood, I stand to-day;
Before me spreads a glowing, rosy scene,
Behind my cares, my lonely dreamings lay.
Of early womanhood, I stand to-day;
Before me spreads a glowing, rosy scene,
Behind my cares, my lonely dreamings lay.
A fair, an easy path of love and faith,
Of calm obedience and of mild content,
A placid evening to so rough a morning,
Smiles in Hope's promise with a glad intent.
Of calm obedience and of mild content,
A placid evening to so rough a morning,
Smiles in Hope's promise with a glad intent.
And yet, and yet, a spirit in my breast
Spurns at the ease of life, the mild control,
And finds a fiercer gladness where the billows
Of sterner strife and deeper conflict roll.
Spurns at the ease of life, the mild control,
And finds a fiercer gladness where the billows
Of sterner strife and deeper conflict roll.
Mild, soft, submissive, clinging, loving ever,
So should a woman be, and so am I,—
When all is calm,—but when the tempests gather
In all their force, they rule my angry sky.
So should a woman be, and so am I,—
When all is calm,—but when the tempests gather
In all their force, they rule my angry sky.
Just twenty-one, and standing here, defiant
Of laws, of rulers, and of every creed—
Oh God in Heaven! whose hand, then, has planted
In my young heart such sorrow-bearing seed?
Of laws, of rulers, and of every creed—
Oh God in Heaven! whose hand, then, has planted
In my young heart such sorrow-bearing seed?
I cannot tell; in prayer have I been governed
By loving hands that sought my highest good;
How he, the evil one beside my cradle,
Implanted here this wild, this lawless mood.
By loving hands that sought my highest good;
How he, the evil one beside my cradle,
Implanted here this wild, this lawless mood.
Ah! I abhor myself! I loathe my being!
False, false as falsehood, save by transient spells;
Driven on shoals by every gale of passion
That at a word, a smile, a sneer, oft swells.
False, false as falsehood, save by transient spells;
Driven on shoals by every gale of passion
That at a word, a smile, a sneer, oft swells.
Oft-times my heart is bowed beneath its burden;
I weep with bitter tears my sin, I cry—
Have mercy, mercy on me, Lord, a sinner!
Turn on this erring one a pitying eye.
I weep with bitter tears my sin, I cry—
Have mercy, mercy on me, Lord, a sinner!
Turn on this erring one a pitying eye.
But, ah! He heeds me not, earth clings so closely
Around my spirit, He can hear me not;
And so I seek to drown, in worser passion,
The voice that, heard, can never be forgot.
Around my spirit, He can hear me not;
And so I seek to drown, in worser passion,
The voice that, heard, can never be forgot.
I sin repent,—yet my repentance serves not;
I feel no peace, no joy, no quiet here;
Heaven is so far off, the world so kindly,
I seek to lose my grief and anguish there.
I feel no peace, no joy, no quiet here;
Heaven is so far off, the world so kindly,
I seek to lose my grief and anguish there.
And him I love—for his sake, oh my Father,
Hear me this once, for his sake bring me low,
That I may win him back, by coming with him
Back to thy fold; teach my wild heart to bow.
Hear me this once, for his sake bring me low,
That I may win him back, by coming with him
Back to thy fold; teach my wild heart to bow.
Could I but wander back this rosy childhood,
Thro' gates of birth, all would be well with me;
But now!—oh aid thy feeble child, Great Father,
To reach, by any steps, Thy Heaven and Thee.
Thro' gates of birth, all would be well with me;
But now!—oh aid thy feeble child, Great Father,
To reach, by any steps, Thy Heaven and Thee.