Excerpt
PART I. HRO' scented meadows, where do grazeThe meek-eyed kine on summer days,At early morn swept Daisy Dare,—Sparkling, graceful, passing fair. Sparkling as the dew-drops gleamingOn her path, or sunlight streamingThrough her tresses—graceful, fair,As naught on earth save Daisy Dare!Wondrous tresses! sunshine fadesMid floating curls and sumptuous braids,—A crown of light that glorifiesWhite brow and deep impassioned eyes.Full, perfect, tempting were her lips—The bee or humming-bird that sipsFrom scarlet blossoms in the SouthBeguiled might be by such a mouth.Her path ran by a rushing streamWhich, like a crooked silver seam,Bound that green meadow to a wood,Where soon with Graham Lee she stood.Softly through arching forest-treesCame stealing up a fresh salt breeze;One fair cheek kissing, till it burnedLike to the other Lee-ward turned."Daisy," he said, "I sail to-dayFor India, with Captain Gray;Will you not be upon the strandTo say 'farewell'—to wave your hand?""Yes; I will go to see you sail:"The tone was proud—her cheek turned pale;"I've promised to be there and sayA parting word to Allen Gray."The strong man's cheek grew white as deathAs thus, with short, unsteady breath,He said: "When last I went to sea,You waved, nay, kissed your hand to me."Her eyes flashed, smiling on him then—Such eyes hold fiery, earnest menIn bondage, and to love beguile,Whether they mock, or weep, or smile."Yes; I remember then to youI kissed my hand; but here are two:Can I not still kiss this one, pray,To you, and this to Allen Gray?" "Oh, do not mock me, Daisy Dare,With your small hands so soft and fair." Her voice was deep, the words were light,The hands upheld were small and white,—Such hands as strong men love to graspAnd crush in an impassioned clasp."Oh, do not mock me, Daisy Dare,With your small hands so soft and fair;They may beguile both lovers—true;You cannot give your heart to two."One or the other let it be;If Allen Gray, you're lost to me:If me, all hearts you must resign,—All homage and all love save mine."My guiding star across the brine,Has been the hope that called you mine;I'd rather see that load-star set,Than wed a fair, false, vain coquette."I'd rather trust, though seas divide,Than linger doubting by your side:Now speak, what turns your heart away;The love of gold or Allen Gray?"Up rose her spirit, quick and proud;And, as through a translucent cloudPour crimson streams of torrid light,The red blood dyed her forehead white."I have not broken faith or vow,"She said; "but do release you now.My heart cannot be bought or soldBy Allen Gray with love or gold."I trifled with him but to tryYour faith in me: I'd rather dieThan wed a man of jealous heart:You cannot trust me, let us part."The jealous love you bring to me,(As yonder green, impulsive seaUnto the shore doth come and go,)In passion tides would ebb and flow."And as that surf, in fitful swells,Doth bring or bear away the shellsFrom yonder strand,—such passion, strifeWould fill, or desolate my life....