Two Songs

Two Songs


Frances Nicholson


OH, tender night !
    Lay my head on thy lap and dull me
        With deep-drugged breath
Of sweet-lipped violet
            Or heavy woodbine wreath,
That I may soon forget
How hope no more may lull me
            To dreams of light.

            Oh, pitying earth !
Bid thy far-wandering streamlets tell me
            Some place of rest
        'Neath sedgy banks that yet
            With yellow buds are drest,
    That I may soon forget
Such sorrow erst befell me
            In true love's dearth.


230 Two Songs

II—Before The Dawn

IN the weird stillness just before the dawn
    Low sang the waves, like murmuring tones that bless,
    Along the far, dim shore, by cape and ness,
And furtive winds blew soft across the lawn,
Touching with spirit-lips in faint caress
    The virgin-lilies, white and motionless,
In the weird stillness just before the dawn.

Was it a dream, or did you really come
    'Twixt the wan glimmer of my casement, where
    The sweet wind followed you ? Did I not hear
Your low voice, passion-thrilled, I, speechless, dumb?
    While in the tender gloom, near and more near,
    Your fond lips drew to mine and rested there—
Was it a rapturous dream, or did you come ?

MLA citation: Nicholson, Frances. "Two Songs." The Yellow Book 7 (Oct. 1895): 229-230. The Yellow Nineties Online. Ed. Dennis Denisoff and Lorraine Janzen Kooistra. Ryerson University, 2012. Web. [Date of access].