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    A Woman's Love Letters
    A Woman's Love Letters
    A Woman's Love Letters
    Ebook76 pages38 minutes

    A Woman's Love Letters

    By Sophia Margaretta Hensley

    ()

    Read preview
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 27, 2013
    A Woman's Love Letters

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      Book preview

      A Woman's Love Letters - Sophia Margaretta Hensley

      Project Gutenberg's A Woman's Love Letters, by Sophie M. Almon-Hensley

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

      Title: A Woman's Love Letters

      Author: Sophie M. Almon-Hensley

      Release Date: May 8, 2006 [EBook #18351]

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A WOMAN'S LOVE LETTERS ***

      Produced by Thierry Alberto, Christine D. and the Online

      Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This

      file was produced from images generously made available

      by the Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions

      (www.canadiana.org))

      The Fleur de Lis Poets.

      A WOMAN'S

      LOVE LETTERS.

      BY SOPHIE M. ALMON-HENSLEY

      NEW YORK. J. SELWIN TAIT

      AND SONS, NUMBER SIXTY-FIVE

      FIFTH AVENUE.

      Copyright, 1895

      BY

      J. SELWIN TAIT & SONS

      New York

      CONTENTS.

      A Dream.

      I stood far off above the haunts of men

      Somewhere, I know not, when the sky was dim

      From some worn glory, and the morning hymn

      Of the gay oriole echoed from the glen.

      Wandering, I felt earth's peace, nor knew I sought

      A visioned face, a voice the wind had caught.

      I passed the waking things that stirred and gazed,

      Thought-bound, and heeded not; the waking flowers

      Drank in the morning mist, dawn's tender showers,

      And looked forth for the Day-god who had blazed

      His heart away and died at sundown. Far

      In the gray west faded a loitering star.

      It seemed that I had wandered through long years,

      A life of years, still seeking gropingly

      A thing I dared not name; now I could see

      In the still dawn a hope, in the soft tears

      Of the deep-hearted violets a breath

      Of kinship, like the herald voice of Death.

      Slow moved the morning; where the hill was bare

      Woke a reluctant breeze. Dimly I knew

      My Day was come. The wind-blown blossoms threw

      Their breath about me, and the pine-swept air

      Grew to a shape, a mighty, formless thing,

      A phantom of the wood's imagining.

      And as I gazed, spell-bound, it seemed to move

      Its tendril limbs, still swaying tremulously

      As if in spirit-doubt; then glad and free

      Crystalled the being won from waiting grove

      Into a human likeness. There he stood,

      The vine-browed shape of Nature's mortal mood.

      "Now have I found thee, Vision I have sought

      These years, unknowing; surely thou art fair

      And inly wise, and on thy tasselled hair

      Glows Heaven's own light. Passion and fame are naught

      To thy clear eyes, O Prince of many lands,—

      Grant me thy joy," I cried, and stretched my hands.

      No answer but the flourish of the breeze

      Through the black pines. Then, slowly, as the wind

      Parts the dense

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