© Leigh Viner 2012
THE FLIGHT OF LOVE
A wind in the wood went wailing,
As slow the sun sank down; A voice in the wind prevailing,
" O Love, how art thou flown !" And the old, old hills, with feet moss-grown, The old cry heard, and from each throne
Sent back an echo wailing,
" O Love, how art thou flown !"
A sound from the sea came wailing,
As slow the moon uprose;
A voice in the tide prevailing,
The tide that ebbs and flows :
" O Love, how art thou flown !
Thou wert so sweet, so sweet,
And life so fleet, so fleet. What wouldst thou more than soul for soul?" Sobbed the long waves that shoreward roll,
" O Love, how art thou flown !"
I heard the wind, and I heard the sea, And surely they were but a part of me ;
The wail of the wind and the sob of the sea, Woke the old pain, broke the heart of me; ( ) hush thee, Wind ; be still, sad Sea, Love will never, ah, never, come back to me.
And still the wind goes wailing
Through the lone aisles of the years,
While smiles the moon, and all the tides Are tides of human tears.
For love still comes, and love still goes; Day brings no joy, night no repose, And deep in the heart the hurt abides, While sigh the winds, and moan the tides, " O Love, how thou art flown !"
A poem I just happily discovered written by my Great, Great Grandmother ~Mrs. J. K. Lawson
