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Old
Spookses’ Pass, Malcolm’s Katie and Other
Poems
by
Isabella Valancy Crawford
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“THE
WISHING STAR.”
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Day
floated down the sky; a perfect day,
Leaving a footprint of pale primrose gold
Along the west, that when her lover, Night,
Fled with his starry lances in pursuit,
Across the sky, the way she went might shew.
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From
the faint ting’d ridges of the seas, the Moon
[Page 212]
Sprang up like Aphrodite from the wave,
Which as she climb’d the sky still held
Her golden tresses to its swelling breast,
Where wide dispread their quiv’ring glories
lay,
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(Or
as the shield of night, full disk’d and red,
As flowers that look forever towards the Sun),
A terrace with a fountain and an oak
Look’d out upon the sea: The fountain danced
Beside the huge old tree as some slim nymph,
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Rob’d
in light silver might her frolics shew
Before some hoary king, while high above,
He shook his wild, long locks upon the breeze—
And sigh’d deep sighs of “All is vanity!”
Behind, a wall of Norman William’s time
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Rose
mellow, hung with ivy, here and there
Torn wide apart to let a casement peer
Upon the terrace. On a carv’d sill I leant
(A fleur-de-lis bound with an English rose)
And look’d above me into two such eyes
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As
would have dazzl’d from that ancient page
That new old cry that hearts so often write
In their own ashes, “All is vanity!”
“Know’st thou—” she said,
with tender eyes far-fix’d,
On the wide arch that domes our little earth,
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“That
when a star hurls on with shining wings,
“On some swift message from his throne of
light,
“The ready heart may wish, and the ripe fruit—
“Fulfilment—drop into the eager palm?”
“Then let us watch for such a star,”
quoth I.
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“Nay,
love,” she said, “’Tis but an
idle tale.”
But some swift feeling smote upon her brow [Page
213]
A rosy shadow. I turn’d and watch’d
the sky—
Calmly the cohorts of the night swept on,
Led by the wide-wing’d vesper; and against
the moon
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Where
low her globe trembl’d upon the edge
Of the wide amethyst that clearly paved
The dreamy sapphire of the night, there lay
The jetty spars of some tall ship, that look’d
The night’s device upon his ripe-red shield.
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And
suddenly down towards the moon there ran—
From some high space deep-veil’d in solemn
blue,
A little star, a point of trembling gold,
Gone swift as seen, “My wishing-star,”
quoth I,
“Shall tell my wish? Did’st note that
little star?
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“Its
brightness died not, it but disappeared,
“To whirl undim’d thro’ space.
I wish’d our love
“Might blot the ‘All is vanity’
from this brief life,
“Burning brightly as that star and winging
on
“Thro’ unseen space of veil’d
Eternity,
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“Brightened
by Immortality—not lost,”
“Awful and sweet the wish!” she said,
and so—
We rested in the silence of content. [Page
214]
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