Rose Terry Cooke

Poems Rose Terry Cooke

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1888. Excerpt: ... So in the front of deadly strife he stood; The glorious thunder of the roaring guns, The restless hurricane of screaming shells, The quick, sharp singing of the rifle-balls, The sudden clash of sabres, and the beat Of rapid horse-hoofs galloping at charge, Made a great chorus to his valorous soul, The dreadful music of a grappling world, That hurried him to fight. He turned the tide, But fell upon its turning. Over him Fluttered the starry flag, and fluttered on, While he lay helpless on the trampled sward, His hot life running scarlet from its source, And all his soul in sudden quiet spent, As still as on the silent mountain-top; So still that from his quick-remembering heart Burst that old cry,--" Show me the Sangreal, Lord!" Then a bright mist descended over him, And in its central glory stood a shape, Wounded, yet smiling. With His bleeding hands Stretched toward that bleeding side, His eyes divine Like a new dawn, thus softly spake the Lord:--"The blood poured out for brothers is my blood; The flesh for brothers broken is my flesh; No more in golden chalices I dwell, No longer in a vision, angel-borne: Here is the Sangreal, here the Holy Quest. Thy prayer is heard, thy soul is satisfied: Come, my beloved! I am come for thee. A LEGEND. 27 I As first I broke the bread and poured the wine, So have I broken thee and poured thy life, So do I bless thee and give thanks for thee So do I bear thee in my wounded hands." Smiling, He stooped, and kissed the tortured brow, And over all its anguish stole a smile; The blood-sealed lips unclosed; the dying breath Sighed, like the rain-sound in a summer wind, Sobbing, but sweet,--"I see the Sangreal, Lord!" A LEGEND. "Hark!" She sat upright in her bed, The gold hair from her head Crisping, coiling, wandering low O'e...