Edmund Clarence Stedman

Rosemary

“THERE’S ROSEMARY, THAT’S FOR REMEMBRANCE.”

  Years ago, when a summer sun
    Warmed the greenwood into life,
  I went wandering with one
    Soon to be my wife.

  Birds were mating, and Love began
    All the copses to infold;
  Our two souls together ran
    Melting in one mould.

  Skies were bluer than ever before:
    It was joy to love you then,
  And to know I loved you more
    Than could other men!

  Winds were fresh and your heart was brave,
    Sang to mine a sweet refrain,
  And for every pledge I gave
    Pledged me back again.

  How it happened I cannot tell,
    But there came a cursed hour,
  When some hidden shape of hell
    Crept within our bower.

  Sudden and sharply either spoke
    Bitter words of doubt and scorn;
  Pride the golden linklets broke,—
    Left us both forlorn.

  Seven long years have gone since then,
    And I suffered, but, at last,
  Rose and joined my fellow-men,
    Crushing down the past.

  Far away over distant hills,
    Now I know your life is led;
  Have you felt the rust that kills?
    Are your lilies dead?

  Summer and winter you have dwelt,
    Like a statue, cold and white;
  None, of all the crowd who knelt,
    Read your soul aright.

  O, I knew the tremulous swell
    Of its secret undertone!
  That diviner music fell
    On my ear alone!

  Ever in dreams we meet with tears:
    Lake and mountain—all are past:
  With the stifled love of seven long years
    Hold each other fast!

  Though the glamoury of the night
    Fades with morning far away,
  Oftentimes a strange delight
    Haunts the after-day.

  Even now, when the summer sun
    Warms the greenwood far within,
  Even now my fancies run
    On what might have been.