The passing of the storm, and other poems . many years of penitence. 30 The Passing of the Storm As one, for some foul crime pursued,Doth flee, in frenzy rash and blindTo wilderness or solitude,I fled, to leave my past behind. I loved a maid, both fair and where, it matters not, nor forty years, with silent silvered many a raven on her wealth of auburn hairThe moonlight shimmered, soft and fair,As where the pine and hemlock stoodAnd sighed in answer to the breeze,With but the stars as troth was plighted in the wood;A simple rustic
The passing of the storm, and other poems . many years of penitence. 30 The Passing of the Storm As one, for some foul crime pursued,Doth flee, in frenzy rash and blindTo wilderness or solitude,I fled, to leave my past behind. I loved a maid, both fair and where, it matters not, nor forty years, with silent silvered many a raven on her wealth of auburn hairThe moonlight shimmered, soft and fair,As where the pine and hemlock stoodAnd sighed in answer to the breeze,With but the stars as troth was plighted in the wood;A simple rustic tale in truth,Of love and sentimental youth. Love is the subtle mystery,The charm, the esoteric lures the seraph from on leave the Throne of Light,—for Hell,-And with resistless shackles viewless thrall, the captive who can fathom loves her fervid wars with passions ardent flame command?Or who presume to understandAnd read with cabalistic artThe hieroglyphics of the heart?. A Chapter from an Old Maris Life 31 Nor eye of regent, skilled to rule, Nor sage from earths profoundest school, Nor erudite philosophy On wisdoms heights, pretend to see The fervent secrets of the breast, Which rankle mute and unexpressed. Nor the angelic hosts above In their exuberance of love. Nor demons from the pit can span The depths of womans love for man. And men, of loves sweet flame bereft, Have but the brutal instincts left. She, too, my youthful love returned. Each breast with throb responsive yearned, The oracles of passion sweet. All augured happiness complete. But, ere the nuptial knot was bound, A whispered rumor crept around, A whispered rumor, such as rise From nothing to colossal size; Though none their origin can trace, Nor ferret out the starting place. Which start sometimes, in idle jest. When knowing looks imply the rest. The lightest rumor, or the worst, May be discredited at first. But oft repeated and received Is so
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