Pocahontas and Other Poems (New York)/The Tree of Love
THE TREE OF LOVE.
Beside the dear, domestic bower,
There sprang a tree of healing power;
Its leaflets, damp with gentle rain,
Could sooth or quell the pang of pain;
And 'neath its shade a maiden grew,
She shared its fruit, she drank its dew.
Oft at her side a youth was seen,
With glance of love and noble mien;
At twilight hour a favour'd guest,
Her trembling hand he warmly press'd;
At length, with guileless heart and free,
She said, "I'll plant that tree for thee."
Her little brother climb'd her knee:
"You must not go away from me;
The nightly prayer with me you say,
And sooth me when I'm tired of play:"
His sister's eye with tears was dim:
She said, "I'll plant that tree for him."
"Its roots are deep," the mother said;
"Beyond the darkling grave they spread:"
"Thy hand is weak," the father cried;
"Too young thou art to be a bride."
Serene she spake, "I look above
For strength to plant the tree of love."
Before the holy priest she stood,
Her fair cheek dy'd with rushing blood;
And as, with hands to heaven display'd,
Strong vows upon her soul he laid,
Her heaving breast, like fluttering bird,
Her snowy mantle wildly stirr'd.
But when the hallow'd cirque of gold,
Of deathless love the promise told,
Mysterious power her spirit felt,
And at the altar's foot she knelt:
"My God, my God, I'll cling to thee,
And plant for him that blessed tree."
Around their home its branches spread,
Its buds she nursed, its root she fed;
Though flaunting crowds, with giddy look,
Of toil so meek slight notice took,
Yet hovering angels mark'd with pride
The green tree of the blessed bride.