Chapter II: Part II

Women are deemed cold, careless, proud,
Who suffer bravely in a crowd;
Smiles flash from hearts in sorrow set,
As gleams from jewels edged with jet.

Some months had passed--it was not long--
When Daisy stood amid a throng,
Turning her white cheek from the light,
Clasping her small hands fiercely tight!

For she had heard two brave men say,--
A stranger one--one Allen Gray,--
No braver hero ever died
Than he whose love she lost through pride.

Unselfish, earnest, daring, brave,
All but himself he tried to save;
Heedless of death and danger--why?
One heart alone could make reply.

One spirit that had vainly sought
Rest from a hungry surge of thought;
Fierce retribution!--thus to be
Tortured by praise of Graham Lee!

Hero! but not for her to claim--
There was the anguish, there the shame:
How little yielding 'twould have cost
To call him still her own, though lost.

But she had cast away the right,
And, mutely wretched, heard that night,
With stormy heart and tearless cheek,
His praise whose name she dared not speak.

Few knew that they were lovers--none
That their two hearts had pulsed as one;
So the world called her cold and changed;
Friends thought her haughty and estranged.

The current of her life's May-time
Ran chill beneath a crust of rime;
And lovers wore, for Daisy's sake,
The icy chains they could not break.

A yearning sadness in her face
But added to that nameless grace,
That spell by which some women reign
In hearts they never strove to gain.

Love fell on her superb repose
Like warm light on a sculptured rose,
As if--beguiled--to flush apart
The chiselled whiteness of its heart.

The voice of passion to her soul
Swept, as the storm-voiced surges roll
Up toward a star-like beacon steep,
Dashed backward rayless to the deep.

As fire-fly lighting up a maze
Of cobwebs with its dying blaze;
Held by a grim black spider fast--
Flashing with glory to the last.

Thus tangled in a cruel fate,
Dared through her folly, feared too late,
The light of Daisy's lost love made
The past fall back in deepest shade.

Strong natures suffer more than those
Who, bowing down, parade their woes
For a brief season, and then rise:
The brave heart uncomplaining dies.

So after years that inner gloom
Had only softened Daisy's bloom,
Giving such meaning to her eyes
As worldlings cannot analyze.

And when her pink cheek turned too soon
Pale as magnolia buds in June,
No one could call its fairness blight,
Or wish a flush upon the white.

When just one shade of roundness passed
From her proud form, they said at last
That she must travel. Well she knew
Love and regret would travel too!

'Twas not one shore alone, whose surge
Came wailing to her like a dirge;
The surf, the waves of every sea,
Everywhere, moaned of Graham Lee.

And when in a far distant land,
Upon a sunny southern strand,
Where warm waves, green as malachite,
Come leaping, as from vats of light,

Where summer's sumptuous golden blaze
Wraps earth in a voluptuous haze
Of lambent splendor; where the skies
Drop balm as erst in Paradise,

Where clusters of imperial trees
Nod their green plumes o'er slumberous seas;
Warm, amorous deeps! whose crystal calms
Dream of the emerald-crested palms.

A shore of bloom! a sea so bright!
Entranced they mingle in the light;
Apart--yet wedded by the sun,
As severed hearts through love made one.

Where air as an elixir fine
Exhilarates like sparkling wine;
Where mere existence brings a joy
Life's trifling ills cannot destroy:

There, where the aromatic breeze--
Fledged in a nest of orange-trees,
Kissing the slumb'rous waves--made sweet
The sea-foam swept to Daisy's feet.

The gloom, the shadow, passed not by;
Still white her cheek, as shells that lie
Like drifted snow on golden strand,
Where stood she writing in the sand.

And still the envious surges came
To wash away that precious name
Writ on her heart's warm shore for years,
Merged by its tidal flow of tears.

She stood in a sequestered cove,
While countless memories of love
Heaped treasure, till her sea of grief
Blushed--breaking on a coral-reef!

For precious memories often grow
From out the darkest voids of woe;
As fissures by the sea-worm drilled
In Eastern shells, with pearls are filled.

The creeping tide swells, shot with flame,
Stole up and kissed away that name
Which Fate indeed, with mocking hand,
For her had written in the sand.

Outward, upon her right did reach
A long, white, narrow line of beach,
Where careless groups now idly strayed,
Watching the flush of sunset fade.

And when across that crimson glow
Her gaze went out as long ago,
O'er colder seas, unto a ship
Which toward the setting sun did dip,

On the far point of that white sand
Standing together, hand in hand,
Like forms of sculptured bronze revealed
Against the sunset's burnished shield,

Two figures smote her 'wildered sight,
And left two blots upon the light;
Darker than iron ship afar
Or smoke that hid the evening star.

For there, between her and the sun,
Stood Graham Lee, and with him one
Whose beauty stirred to bitter strife
The chilly current of her life.

"Two figures smote her 'wildered sight,
And left two blots upon the light."]

As summer sends a mighty thrill
Through clust'ring icy floes, until
Their shudd'ring breaks the ghastly sleep
Of Nova Zembla's pallid deep.

More dead he seemed to her that hour--
There, in the strength of manly power,
Bending to see those dark eyes shine--
Than cold and still beneath the brine.

Six years had marked their weary length
On her young life--whose faith and strength
A widowed heart left purified--
To live, now wishing she had died.

More lost she felt, and more alone,
Leaning against that hard, cold stone,
Than when his ship was outward bound,
Or when she thought of him as drowned.

They turned, and sauntered towards the cove;
Oh, woman's strength! oh, woman's love!
She stirred not till their eyes had met,
And knew herself remembered yet.

Down wastes of absence, grief, and gloom--
Warmed by his gaze--uprose the bloom
Of Hope's lost violets through the snow,
A purple path to long ago!

She saw the creole's large, dark eyes
Glance up to his in mute surprise;
She saw him leave the girl and stand
Before her with an outstretched hand.

Then turned and fled--no matter where,
So those she fled from were not there--
Seaward away, across the strand,
Where hungry waves crept up the sand.

On Memory's scroll there came a blot,
A space of time remembered not;
When sense awoke, clouds late aglow
With sunset fire, looked drifts of snow.

For, like a disembodied soul
By angels clad in silvery stole
And shining sandals for its flight
Along the upward paths of light,

The moon had risen there, and turned
Volcanic cloud-peaks while they burned,
White as the frozen coronet
On Jura's misty forehead set.

And where, from out her casket fine,
Eve had dropped rubies on the brine,
In gleaming lengths of shimmering sheen
Long lines of moonlight paved the green.

Yet not to star, or sea, or skies
She gazed, but into deep, dear eyes
Bending upon her with the glow,
The old, sweet love of long ago.

Subtly it thrilled through every vein,
Making her white cheek flush again;
As pale hydrangeas blushing shine,
Whose roots are steeped in purple wine.

She felt love's subtle, potent charm
Binding her on that strong right arm;
'T was softer than the cold gray stone,
'T was sweeter thus than all alone.

One moment struggling to be free,
She cried: "Release me, Graham Lee;
For there is more to part us now
Than distance, death, or broken vow."

"Daisy"--his voice was deep and clear--
"Stay; would I dare to hold you here
So near my heart, if unto you
That heart had ever been untrue?

"Perchance, had I not found you soon,
As yon gray cloud beside the moon
Is silver-lined,--that wore a crown
Of glory when the sun went down,

"My future might have worn at last
A light, which, likened to the past,
Would be as yonder placid moon
Unto the sumptuous suns of June.

"You thought me dead--I thought you lost;
Our hearts have both been tempest tossed,
And never anchored since that hour
When each defied the other's power.

"The stately creole by my side
Is my young sister--not my bride;
Earth holds one mate alone for me,
One bride--say, Daisy, shall it be?"

No blot on the horizon's verge,
No black smoke hid the star, no surge
Came up to fret the silent sea,
No answer came to Graham Lee.

What need of words? From eye to eye
How quick the magnet glances fly--
Electric sparks from soul to soul--
As magnets flash from pole to pole.

From noiseless waters, stealing slow,
The drooping white stalactites grow;
From noiseless drops stalagmites rise,
Silent they meet, and crystallize.

The overflowing loves that spring
From two proud natures meeting, cling
In strong, pure bliss from heart to home,
As cavern spars from floor to dome.

BABY POWER.

"Six little feet to cover,
Six little hands to fill,
Tumbling out in the clover,
Stumbling over the sill."]

BABY POWER.

Six little feet to cover,
Six little hands to fill,
Tumbling out in the clover,
Stumbling over the sill.
Six little stockings ripping,
Six little shoes half worn;
Spite of the promised whipping,
Skirts, shirts, and aprons torn!
Bugs and bumble-bees catching,
Heedless of bites and stings,
Walls and furniture scratching,
Twisting off buttons and strings.
Into the sugar and flour,
Into the salt and meal,
Their royal, baby power,
All through the house we feel!
Behind the big stove creeping,
To steal the kindling-wood;
Into the cupboard peeping,
To hunt for "somesin' dood."
The dogs they tease to snarling,
The chickens know no rest,
Yet the old cook calls them "darling,"
And loves each one "the best."
Smearing each other's faces
With smut or blacking-brush,
To forbidden things and places
Always making a rush.
Over a chair, or table,
They'll fight, and kiss again
When told of slaughtered Abel,
Or cruel, wicked Cain.
All sorts of mischief trying,
On sunny days--in doors
And then perversely crying
To rush out when it pours.
A raid on grandma making,
--In spite her nice new cap--
Its strings for bridles taking,
While riding on her lap.
Three rose-bud mouths beguiling,
Prattling the live-long day,
Six sweet eyes on me smiling,
Hazel, and blue, and gray.--
Hazel--with heart-light sparkling,
Too happy, we trust, to fade--
Blue--'neath long lashes darkling,
Like violets in the shade.
Gray--full of earnest meaning,
A dawning light so fair,
Of woman's life beginning,
We dread the noon-tide glare
Of earthly strife, and passion,
May spoil its tender glow,
Change its celestial fashion,
As earth-stains change the snow!
Six little clasped hands lifted,
Three white brows upward turned,
One prayer--thrice heavenward drifted--
To Him who never spurned
The lisp of lips where laughter,
Fading away in prayer,
Leaves holy twilight after
A noon of gladness there.
Three little heads, all sunny,
To pillow and bless at night,--
Riotous Alick and Dunnie,
Jinnie, so bonnie and bright!
Three souls immortal slumber,
Crowned by that golden hair;
When Christ his flock shall number,
Will all _my_ lambs be there?
Now, with the stillness round me,
I bow my head and pray,
"Since this faint heart has found thee,
Suffer them not to stray."
Up to the shining portals,
Over life's stormy tide,
Treasures I bring--immortal;
Saviour be thou my guide.

End of Project Gutenberg's Daisy Dare, and Baby Power, by Rosa Vertner Jeffrey