Poems (Toke)/Nicolas Toke (Fair spreads the unstained page before me now)
AIR spreads the unstained page before me now;
No thought recorded stains its virgin snow,
No dream of hope, no memory warm and dear,
Has yet awoke to find a being here,—
But all lies passive, till the magic mind
Bids the blank page a living utterance find.
NICOLAS TOKE.
FROM HIS MOST AFFECTIONATE WIFE.
AIR spreads the unstained page before me now;No thought recorded stains its virgin snow,
No dream of hope, no memory warm and dear,
Has yet awoke to find a being here,—
But all lies passive, till the magic mind
Bids the blank page a living utterance find.
And say, what untried music, what new theme,
To grace the opening volume best may seem,
And o'er its first page hopeful radiance cast;—
Oh! who can tell if ever reached the last?
Nay, Dearest, no new theme, no untried strain,
Shall be the first to wake my harp again;
But thy loved name the key-note still must be,
To touch the slumbering chords of harmony,
And all the varied notes that round it ring.
Must mingle still with that one master string.
To grace the opening volume best may seem,
And o'er its first page hopeful radiance cast;—
Oh! who can tell if ever reached the last?
Nay, Dearest, no new theme, no untried strain,
Shall be the first to wake my harp again;
But thy loved name the key-note still must be,
To touch the slumbering chords of harmony,
And all the varied notes that round it ring.
Must mingle still with that one master string.
The hues of Autumn, deepening round us fast,
Proclaim that now the warm bright days are past,
And every paling leaf and fading flower,
Tells of the coming blast, the wintry hour;
But still a summer gladness seems the while,
On this bright hour to shed a transient smile,
And all—at least to me—looks blithe and gay,
To greet the morn of this, thy natal day!
Dearest, since first with falt'ring tongue I strove
To twine for thee a simple lay of love,
How many a year o'er our old home has passed,
Each borne on swifter pinions than the last!
How many a change has marked with varied hue
Our lot in all—save love still warm and true!
Yes; hand in hand and heart in heart entwined,
We strive 'mid chance and change, true peace to find,
And though each year its cares and sorrows brings,
Yet mercies drop unceasing from its wings,
And we with grateful hearts, whate'er befall,
Must bless the Gracious Hand that gives us all.
Proclaim that now the warm bright days are past,
And every paling leaf and fading flower,
Tells of the coming blast, the wintry hour;
But still a summer gladness seems the while,
On this bright hour to shed a transient smile,
And all—at least to me—looks blithe and gay,
To greet the morn of this, thy natal day!
Dearest, since first with falt'ring tongue I strove
To twine for thee a simple lay of love,
How many a year o'er our old home has passed,
Each borne on swifter pinions than the last!
How many a change has marked with varied hue
Our lot in all—save love still warm and true!
Yes; hand in hand and heart in heart entwined,
We strive 'mid chance and change, true peace to find,
And though each year its cares and sorrows brings,
Yet mercies drop unceasing from its wings,
And we with grateful hearts, whate'er befall,
Must bless the Gracious Hand that gives us all.
Belovèd Husband! take once more from me
The only gift that I can bring to thee;—
Deep, heartfelt blessings, many an earnest prayer,
That God may keep thee still with ceaseless care,
Shield thee, and those so dear, from every ill,
And be in life and death thy refuge still;
Till all our kindred group, earth's perils past,
A band unbroken, meet in Heaven at last.
The only gift that I can bring to thee;—
Deep, heartfelt blessings, many an earnest prayer,
That God may keep thee still with ceaseless care,
Shield thee, and those so dear, from every ill,
And be in life and death thy refuge still;
Till all our kindred group, earth's perils past,
A band unbroken, meet in Heaven at last.
E.
October 6, 1845.