Margaret Fullers transnationales Projekt : Selbstbildung, feminine ...

Anhang 289
Freely expressed, and as the wind the flame
So words, looks brightened soul, till thought became
Actions, risk, life, and bliss, – no hollow name
What has existed, may exist again. –
I, distant, tossing on the treacherous main,
Amid the roaring surge your voices hear,
Your palmy isle of peace can fancy near;
On unsubstantial joy, but all that’s given
To martyrs for the intellectual heaven,
Who feverish, still must labor at the oar,
Nor ever wander on the flower-wreathed shore
Except in thought’s uneasy calenture.
But joy be with you, lonely ones! if souls like
mine could rest,
It would be when men hope that some of kindred
mortals are blest.
9. To Jeanie, (after a visit to Margaret, in Providence)
Although the sweet, still watches of the night
Find me all lonely now, yet the delight
Hath not quite gone, which from thy presence flows.
The love, the joy in thy bosom glows
Lingers to cheer thy friend; from thy fresh dawn
Some golden exaltations have I drawn
To make less dim my dusty noon. Thy tones
Are with me yet; some plaintive as the moans
Of Myrads when their native groves must fall;
Some wildly wailing, like the clarion call
On battle-field, strewn with the noble dead.
Some in soft romance, like the echoes bred.
In the most secret groves of Arcady.
But all, wild, sad or soft, how steeped in Poesy! (April 1838)
10. To E_____
Call it a moment’s work and such it seems,
This tale a fragment of the life of Dreams,
But say that years matured the silent strife,
And ‘tis a record from the Dream of Life.
Lady,- I bring a flower, a token