Poems (Truesdell)/The Young Wife's Song

by Helen Truesdell

THE YOUNG WIFE'S SONG.

I list for thy footsteps, my darling;
 I've waited and watched for thee long:
The dim woods have heard my complainings,
 And sorrow has saddened my song.

The last rays of sunset are gilding
 The hill-tops with purple and gold;
And, lo! in yon azure dominion,
 Does a beautiful rainbow unfold.

Like the hues of that rainbow, my spirit
 All fondly is blended with thine;
Then how canst thou linger away, love,
 When thou know'st this fond spirit will pine?

The game and the chase are alluring,
 I know, my bold hunter, for thee;
But when borne on thy swift Arab courser,
 Do thy thoughts ever wander to me?

Or e'er to the home of my childhood,
 The beautiful cot far away,
Where the birds sang so sweet, in their gladness,
 And I was as happy as they?

The lone willow droops in its sadness;
 The stern oak stands sturdy and still;
But a loved form is seen in the distance,
 And footsteps are heard on the hill.

"'Tis he!' 'tis my Ulric! I hear him,
 I see him; O! joy, he is here!"
She threw back her curls in her gladness,
 And silently brushed off a tear.

There were low murmured words of forgiveness:
 Fond clasping of hands, and a kiss.
The past! ah! the past is forgotten.
 What could mar such a moment as this!