Verse > Anthologies > Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. > An American Anthology, 1787–1900
Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908).  An American Anthology, 1787–1900.  1900.
653. Sonnets
By Anna Callender Brackett

THEN saw I, with gray eyes fulfilled of rest,
And lulling voice, a woman sweet, and she,—
“Bear thou my word: I am of all most blest;
Nor marvel that I am Eurydice.
I stood and watched those slow feet go from me        5
Farther and farther; in the light afar,
All clear the figure grew—then suddenly
Into my dark his face flashed like a star!—
And that was all. The purple vaporous door
Left me triumphant over time and space;        10
Sliding across between forevermore,
It could not hide the glory of that face.
For me no room to doubt, no need to learn—
He knew the whole—and could not choose but turn!”

“ALL Green Things on the earth, bless ye the Lord!”
So sang the choir while ice-cased branches beat
The frosty window-panes, and at our feet
The frozen, tortured sod but mocked the word,
And seemed to cry like some poor soul in pain,
“Lord, suffering and endurance fill my days;        20
The growing green things will their Maker praise,—
The happy green things, growing in warm rain!
So God lacks praise while all the fields are white!”
I said; then smiled, remembering southward far
How pampas-grass swayed green in summer light.        25
Nay, God hears always from this swinging star,
Decani and Cantoris, South and North,
Each answering other, praises pouring forth


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