Jean Blewett

“ Wooing His Valentine
IF I could speak in phrases fine,
Full sweet the words that I would say
To woo you for my valentine
Upon this February day.
But when I strive to tell you all,
The charms I see in your dear face,
A dumbness on me seems to fall—
O, sweetheart, let me crave your grace!
I fain would say your eyes of blue,
Like violets to me appear;
Shy blossoms, filled with heaven’s dew,
That throw their sweetness far and near.
How tender are your lips of red!
How like a rose each velvet cheek!
How bright the gold upon your head—
All this I’d say, if I could speak. ”

“ Trod the slim path which wound its changeful way
Down the tall hill, past alders all abloom.
A girl, a young girl, is a gracious sight,
A thing to make the eye light gaily up,{91}
We see our youth in her—the joy of youth
Smiles out at us from her white-lidded eyes,
The careless grace of youth is on her lips,
The innocence of youth shines on her brow,
The prettiness of youth is on her cheek,
Her softness is the softness of a flower,
Her brightness and her beauty have the fresh
And healthy glow of morn. ”

“ A ladder of gold for the Maid of Grace—the strong, the subtle, the fond!{34}
SPRING, with the warmth in her footsteps light, and the breeze and the fragrant breath,
Is coming to press her radiant face to that which is cold in death.
SPRING, with a mantle made of the gold held close in a sunbeam’s heart,
Thrown over her shoulders, bonnie and bare—see the sap in the great trees start,
Where the hem of this flowing garment trails, see the glow, the color bright,
A-stirring and spreading of something fair—the dawn is chasing the night! ”

“ Till One came to her side,
And took her hand in His, and what He said
Is past the telling; there are things the soul
Knows well, but cannot blazon to the world.
And when He went His way, upon her brow
Where shame had lain, set the sweet word, Forgiveness.
And Mary Magdalene
Did follow Him, led by a wondrous love,
Did wash His tender feet with grateful tears,
And wipe them with the soft hairs of her head.
MARY.
Joseph of Arimathea laid his form
In a new tomb. I tremble as we come
So near! and tell me, do you note a light,
Fairer than dawn, is cast on all things here. ”

“ The eastern world is full of glow,
With warmer sun, and bluer sky,
And richer bloom than we can show—
At Joppa quaint, beside the sea,
When Simon Peter went to pray.
I wonder if he did not pause
Awhile to gaze on God’s great book,
To read on earth, and sea, and sky,
The smile divine, the tender look;
For when the hour of vision’s given,
The two worlds touch—our earth and heaven.
God teaches with a tenderness
That we who follow him should learn,
Hides not His glory when ’twill bless
Eyes that look up, and souls that yearn. ”

“ The trees that have played with the merry thing, and freighted its breast with leaves,
Give never a murmur or sigh of woe—they are dead—no dead thing grieves.
No carol of love from a song-bird’s throat; the world lies naked and still,
For all things tender, and all things sweet, have been touched by the gruesome chill.
Not a flower,—a blue forget-me-not, a wild rose or jessamine soft,
To lay its bloom on the dead river’s lips, that have kissed them all so oft ”

“ Ah, the springtime of life, its bloom and its glow,
The heart can never forget,{184}
My sweetbriar maid I would give to-day,
The wealth, the fame and the gold
That the years have brought, if they’d roll away,
And leave us the thrill of old.
If only straight backward old time would move—
(Ah, wishing is all in vain) ,
And leave us with youth, and joy, and love,
Deep down in that winding lane.
My Canada
MY Canada! ”

“ O, surely the day is close and warm!
Whoa mare! go steady! no need for haste
When two soft arms are about his waist;
Neil, shame on him, pressed her finger-tips,
Then turned he about and pressed her lips!
On the road the hawthorn blossom white
Scattered itself just in sheer delight,
A bird was singing a tender rhyme
Of meadow, mate, and the nesting-time,
The hill looked beautiful in the glow
That heaven flung on the world below. ”

“ Your lips were made for laughter.
To you the great world was a place
That care might never stay in,
A playground built by God’s good grace
For happy folks to play in.
You made your footpath by life’s flowers,
O happy little maiden,
The sky was full of shine and showers,
The wind was perfume-laden.
I came and found you sweet and wild,
Love—only love—could tame you,
To think, O pretty thoughtless child
That greedy death must claim you.{144}
Your dimpled hands are folded now
Above the snowy bosom,
The lilies creep and kiss your brow,
O tender broken blossom! ”

“ It was such a pretty story I wove it into a rhyme,
To read to myself, when the skies were grey, at the end of summertime.
{160}
In Lover’s Lane
O, ranting bully with clamorous breath,
O, vandal, why come you down from the North
With frost in your breath, and wrath in your voice,
And force in your arms to level and toss?
You rush through the wood and threaten the trees—
The giants of oak, of beech, and of elm,
Playmates of yours ere age had o’ertaken,
Stolen their vigor, their sap, and their life. ”

“ And the striving and the bitterness shall cease,{187}
Then laid the wounded hand of Him
Upon my breaking heart,
Lo, ’twas mine, the priceless gift of Perfect Peace.
Come let us weigh the tenderness Christ hath for you and me,
By the promises He ready stands to prove,
Let us try to comprehend it, the gift so full and free,
O the height and depth, and length and breadth, of Love!
He is so patient with us as He guides our stubborn feet—
So patient though we wander far astray,
Lean on the Everlasting Strength, He saith in accents sweet,
As we falter and we stumble by the way. ”

“ There is not one so good and true.
If I had but the gift of speech,
Your beauty and your grace to prove,
Then might I find a way to reach
Your heart, and all its wealth of love.
Then, sweetheart, take the good intent—
Truth has no need of phrases fine—
Repay what long ago I lent,
And be to-day my Valentine.
{11}
Jealous, Sweetheart?
A STEP on the walk she’s waiting to hear—
Waiting—waiting—
There’s a frown on her face—pouting ’tis clear,
Ah, someone is late in coming I fear.
All lovers are very fickle, my dear,
Waiting, waiting! ”

“ With Her Sunshine, Breeze and Dew
JOYOUS May has come again
With her sunshine, breeze and dew,
Holding up her silken train,
See the blossoms, sweet and new.
Here a yellow primrose shows
All the world a heart of gold,
There a scarlet tulip glows,
By the breeze made overbold.
Joyous May, we welcome you,
Welcome you and all you bring,
Skies so shining and so blue,
Birds to twitter and to sing,
Children on the green to play,
Blushing maid, and eager swain,
At your coming, joyous May,
All the world grows young again. ”

“ Its paths are soft to tender feet,
Stay in the baby-world my sweet!
My little maid, my little maid,
You grow too old, I am afraid,
Your tender face it seems to me,
Is filled full of expectancy.
A spirit questioning, and wise
Looks out at me from your dark eyes,
Till I am fain to hold you fast
And hide you while old Time goes past.{198}
Stay in the baby-world so new,
Its flowers are drowning in the dew,
Its paths are soft to tender feet,
Stay in the baby-world my sweet!
My little maid, my little maid,
You grow too old, I am afraid,
Five years! ”

“ I love the warmth of our blue sky, the bloom on every hand,
Far more than all your snow-capped hills, and forests ghostly white,
And mournful winds that love to play a dirge both day and night!”
Thereat his father—kindly soul as ever put to sleep
Both saint and sinner in the pew, with sermon long and deep—
Bade him not tease a sister so, “Come, make your peace straightway,
Then harness and bring out Black Bess, for on this glorious day
My Ruth shall have a rare, good treat—a sleigh-ride, do you hear? ”

“ Traced tender eyes, wide brow, and changing blush,
The gladness and the youth, the bending head
All covered over with its curls of gold,
The dimpled arms, the two hands filled with bread
To feed the little sparrows brown and bold
That flutter to her feet. It hangs there still,
Just as ’twas painted on that far-off day,
Nor faded is the blush upon the cheek,
The sweet lips hold their smiling and can thrill,
And still the eyes—so tender, and so meek—
Light up the walls of mem’ry dull and gray.
{205}
God Loveth Us
GOD loveth us! ”

“ My lassie wears upon her breast
No knot of ribbon gay,
Forget-me-nots she loves the best,
Plucked at the dawn of day.
My lassie’s feet like two white mice
Go slipping through the grass,
And all the dew-drops think them nice,
And kiss them as they pass.
The satin shoe with buckle drest
Is richer, it may be,
But if the truth must be confest,
Not half so good to see.
My lassie’s face is fair to see,
My lassie’s eyes are blue,
And always do they tell to me
Her heart is fond and true. ”

“ My Mary, my darling, my beautiful girl, Let me be your valentine!”
This yellow old page from the book of youth was put in my hand to-day,
As I growled, “Our Tom has fallen in love in a nonsensical way;
He is making a fool of himself—ha! ha! he is writing poetry now,
To his Anna’s lips, and his Anna’s hair, his Anna’s beautiful brow.” ”

“ God’s acre, she said, is full of bloom—do the dead folks turn to flowers?
There’s a tender story, my children, that may comfort you some day
When mother sleeps in God’s acre, and the flowers blossom gay.
The soft-voiced angels of Life and Love they whispered to Christ one day{159}
We pray Thee that when one fair and good in the earth is laid away,
That we in the golden dawn may go alone where the sleeper lies,
And sing in the solemn silence the songs learned in Paradise. ”

“ A violet’s breath lives longer than its bloom,
So in this tender wish of thine I read
Once on a time thy love was mine.”
Jacynth:
“And Peace—
Sweet Peace, whose softest note can drown the cry{170}
Of bitterness—Oh! I would have her keep
Thy company, go with thee all the day,
Sleep on thine heart from dusk till rosy dawn,
And all such pretty joys be borne to thee
As come with fragrant breath, and dewy lips,
And subtle tender touch, to keep our love
Towards God and man a warm and living thing. ”

“ Where stars were shining so soft and clear;
Did the ghosts of innocence and love
Steal out of the gloom and stand quite near?
So young to quiver beneath such smart!
A fairer brow ’twould be hard to find—
The pity of it! a broken heart,
And childhood lying so close behind.
I heard her whisper, “’Twas long ago
That I laughed for joy at the touch of morn,
Kneeled down and prayed in the light and glow—
Ah me! ”

“ Lies with a golden glory on her head,
Dreaming throughout this hour so fair—so still—
Of other days and all her mighty dead.
The white doves perch upon the cannons grim,
The flowers bloom where once did run a tide
Of crimson, when the moon rose pale and dim
Above the battlefield so grim and wide.
Methinks within her wakes a mighty glow
Of pride, of tenderness—her stirring past—
The strife, the valor, of the long ago
Feels at her heartstrings. Strong, and tall, and vast,
She lies, touched with the sunsets golden grace,
A wondrous softness on her grey old face. ”

“ With Adam, a lone and a lonesome man.
Now the sunbeams kissing her golden hair,
Her cheeks, and her round arms dimpled and bare,
Seemed stamping a value of mighty wealth
On youth and love, and the bloom of health.
John looked, and looked, till his eyes grew dim,
Then tilted the hat with the worthless brim,
To hide what he would not have her see,
“You’re—you’re just worth the whole world, Nan,” said he.
“Then you are no beggar”—O sweet, bold Nan!
“You’re the whole world richer than any man.” ”

“ Such bliss as will last till we reach heaven?{237}
So, if I should die just bend your head,
And kiss my lips as I lie at rest,
Whisper, I love you living or dead
Always and ever I love you best.
Why talk of it now? A woman’s whim,
We are whimsical creatures, as you know—
Look yonder, the twilight soft and dim
Comes hurrying over the world below. ”

“ And left us youth, and youth’s desires,
What heights—nay never soul of man
Mounts up so high as it aspires.
The years—harsh things that steal the dew
From all that’s fair—disdained to show
Such mercy towards our purpose strong,
To learn untouched its tender glow.{194}
Not always kind, not often fair,
Since hearts so rarely constant prove
What wonder that my fervor passed,
That dulled grew the sharp edge of love?
When eyes entreating met my own,
Between would come your changeless face,
Till, thwarted, I would feel to cry,
O work, release me for a space! ”

“ A busy world was deep’ning into night.
“Son, look on me,” the sweetness of the tone
Made Ammiel’s heart begin to thrill and glow,
“Full well,” he said, “I know there is but One
With simple words like these could move me so.”
“Son, look on me,” and lifting up his eyes
He looked on Jesu’s face, and knew ’twas He,
Knelt down and kissed His feet, and would not rise
Because of love and deep humility.
Up in the deep blue of the skies above
Were kindled all the watchfires of the night
The voice of Jesus, deep and filled with love,
Said, “Come, bide with me till the morning’s light. ”