earlyamericanwomenpoets




A Dream
I dreamed that I was dead and crossed the heavens, —Heavens after heavens with burning feet and swift, —And cried: “O God, where art Thou? I left oneOn earth, whose burden I would pray Thee lift.”
I was so dead I wondered at no thing, —No even hat the angels slowly turnedTheir faces, speechless, as I hurried by(Beneath my feet the golden pavements burned);
Nor, at the first, that I could not find God,Because the heavens stretched endlessly like space.At last a terror seized my very soul;I seemed alone in all the crowded place.
Then, sudden, one compassionate cried out,Though like the rest his face from me he turned,As I were one no angel might regard(Beneath my feet the golden pavements burned):
“No more in heaven than earth will he find GodWho does not know his loving mercy swiftBut waits the moment consummate and ripe,Each burden from each human soul to lift.”
Though I was dead, I died again for shame;Lonely, to flee from heaven again I turned;The ranks of angels looked away from me(Beneath my feet the golden pavements burned).


Her Eyes
That they are brown, no man will dare to sayHe knows. And yet I think that no man’s lookEver those depths of light and shade forsook,Until their gentle pain warned him away.Of all sweet things I know but one which mayBe likened to her eyes. — When, in deep nookOf some green field, the water of a brookMakes lingering, whirling eddy in its way,Round soft drowned leaves; and in a flash of sunThey turn to gold, until the ripples runNow brown, now yellow, changing as by someSwift spell. — I know not with what body comeThe saints. But this I know, my ParadiseWill mean the resurrection of her eyes.


Sources

Jackson, Helen Hunt. Sonnets and Lyrics. Boston: Roberts Brothers, 1892.
— — —. Poems. Boston: Roberts Brothers, 1897.
— — —. Verses. Boston: Roberts Brothers, 1887.