The Project Gutenberg eBook ofRain and roses

The Project Gutenberg eBook ofRain and rosesThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world 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 atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: Rain and rosesAuthor: Jeannette Fraser HenshallRelease date: October 4, 2020 [eBook #63373]Most recently updated: October 18, 2024Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Charlene Taylor, Chuck Greif and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RAIN AND ROSES ***

This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world 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 atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

Title: Rain and rosesAuthor: Jeannette Fraser HenshallRelease date: October 4, 2020 [eBook #63373]Most recently updated: October 18, 2024Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Charlene Taylor, Chuck Greif and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)

Title: Rain and roses

Author: Jeannette Fraser Henshall

Release date: October 4, 2020 [eBook #63373]Most recently updated: October 18, 2024

Language: English

Credits: Produced by Charlene Taylor, Chuck Greif and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RAIN AND ROSES ***

RAIN AND ROSES

[Portrait of the author not available.]

Rain and RosesByJEANNETTE FRASER HENSHALLTo My DaughterBeulah1923THE STRATFORD CO.,PublishersBoston, Massachusetts

ByJEANNETTE FRASER HENSHALLTo My DaughterBeulah1923THE STRATFORD CO.,PublishersBoston, Massachusetts

FRIEND of my heart when you’re awayI fashion for my tongue,A thousand things to say to youBut dear heart when you come,How needless is my well formed phrase,And my care chosen words,Take swift and sudden flight away,Like small wind-riven birds.And with you here, my full glad heartCan only say, you’ve come.For all your touching, pleading waysBut serve to make me dumb.

FRIEND of my heart when you’re awayI fashion for my tongue,A thousand things to say to youBut dear heart when you come,

How needless is my well formed phrase,And my care chosen words,Take swift and sudden flight away,Like small wind-riven birds.

And with you here, my full glad heartCan only say, you’ve come.For all your touching, pleading waysBut serve to make me dumb.

LONG, long ago in our old streetBack from the busy road,An old deserted stone house stoodBreaking beneath its load.Such ruin that remained of peaksStood out against the skies.And the memory of old thingsLooked from behind its eyes.In summer time this dead old houseSet in its flowery space.One likened to a strangerIn a much too friendly place.In winter time its creaking frameWith all its falling beams,Was like a sea rocked sailorGrown weary of his dreams.It leaned a little westward.And now I think it knew,And was waiting other voicesIt long had listened to.Once I was part of this old ruinWhen I myself were young.Out of pity I must leave youAnd half the song unsung.

LONG, long ago in our old streetBack from the busy road,An old deserted stone house stoodBreaking beneath its load.

Such ruin that remained of peaksStood out against the skies.And the memory of old thingsLooked from behind its eyes.

In summer time this dead old houseSet in its flowery space.One likened to a strangerIn a much too friendly place.

In winter time its creaking frameWith all its falling beams,Was like a sea rocked sailorGrown weary of his dreams.

It leaned a little westward.And now I think it knew,And was waiting other voicesIt long had listened to.

Once I was part of this old ruinWhen I myself were young.Out of pity I must leave youAnd half the song unsung.

IAM grown weary for new scenesBut not of human make.But O! for hills and long green fields,A splintered, glittering lake.This day I am an intimateWith sky and bird and tree.With budding boughs and turbulent streamsAnd God’s immensity.I am enamored with fresh daysDrenched with rain and sun.The tho’t of thine omnipotenceO! God has made me dumb.Thy goodness is so wide, a thingBeat, for me slower time.I cannot sing so great a songIn one short life like mine.

IAM grown weary for new scenesBut not of human make.But O! for hills and long green fields,A splintered, glittering lake.

This day I am an intimateWith sky and bird and tree.With budding boughs and turbulent streamsAnd God’s immensity.

I am enamored with fresh daysDrenched with rain and sun.The tho’t of thine omnipotenceO! God has made me dumb.

Thy goodness is so wide, a thingBeat, for me slower time.I cannot sing so great a songIn one short life like mine.

IHAVE known the beautyOf a firegold west.And from the hurt in rainsongI shall never rest.I heard the water runningFrom a green hill’s crest,But what is sweet in sorrowHearts remember best.

IHAVE known the beautyOf a firegold west.And from the hurt in rainsongI shall never rest.

I heard the water runningFrom a green hill’s crest,But what is sweet in sorrowHearts remember best.

ISEE thee now thine innocenceWrit on thy soul’s clear skies.Thy laughter loving mouthThy love provoking eyes.I mark thy soft girl fairnessThy strong young body’s grace,The woman soul that I have nursedDawning behind thy face.I note with fear thy heedlessAnd unchided turbulence.Unfaltering faith in life and loveThine air of confidence.And then I see as seers might seeEven as one’s own God.Thy straight, slim youthfulnessBend to the chastening rod.I writhe to think I may not bearThe blows, for thine own sakeI can not, tho’ ’tis mine to knowHow one small heart can ache.In the winds of thy fierce breakingGod grant I never seeThy flashing spirit sullen,Or thy lips in mutiny.But rather child, I’d have thee knowEven as I the rod,As a tuning fork to bring thy songBack to the harp of God.

ISEE thee now thine innocenceWrit on thy soul’s clear skies.Thy laughter loving mouthThy love provoking eyes.

I mark thy soft girl fairnessThy strong young body’s grace,The woman soul that I have nursedDawning behind thy face.

I note with fear thy heedlessAnd unchided turbulence.Unfaltering faith in life and loveThine air of confidence.

And then I see as seers might seeEven as one’s own God.Thy straight, slim youthfulnessBend to the chastening rod.

I writhe to think I may not bearThe blows, for thine own sakeI can not, tho’ ’tis mine to knowHow one small heart can ache.

In the winds of thy fierce breakingGod grant I never seeThy flashing spirit sullen,Or thy lips in mutiny.

But rather child, I’d have thee knowEven as I the rod,As a tuning fork to bring thy songBack to the harp of God.

WHEN I hear the north windIt never fails to bring,Reminders of for-get-me-notsAnd sunny days in spring.And O! the east wind carriesUpon its scented sail,The tho’t of pink arbutusIn some secluded vale.And how I’d like to gatherWhen winds are in the west,A brace of orange blossomsTo hold against my breast.But O! I love the south windThat breathes across the loam,For O! the tender south windJust whispers dear “come home!”

WHEN I hear the north windIt never fails to bring,Reminders of for-get-me-notsAnd sunny days in spring.

And O! the east wind carriesUpon its scented sail,The tho’t of pink arbutusIn some secluded vale.

And how I’d like to gatherWhen winds are in the west,A brace of orange blossomsTo hold against my breast.

But O! I love the south windThat breathes across the loam,For O! the tender south windJust whispers dear “come home!”

LAST night when I was watching shadows lengthenFrom twilight into deeper, darker lines,The lazy river caught my little boat dear,And swept it in among the clinging vines.And somehow in the mirror of the currentI saw your kindly face look back at me.Then I reached my eager hands toward youAs one would do to friends across the sea.Friend O! mine, don’t think that I’ve forgotten,Tho’ parted now by many a weary mile.In every little pool I see reflected,Your eyes forever tender with a smileAnd someday when GOD calls me from my dreamingAnd draws me from life’s loneliness apart,I’ll carry all these things that I remember—About you, up to heaven in my heart.

LAST night when I was watching shadows lengthenFrom twilight into deeper, darker lines,The lazy river caught my little boat dear,And swept it in among the clinging vines.

And somehow in the mirror of the currentI saw your kindly face look back at me.Then I reached my eager hands toward youAs one would do to friends across the sea.

Friend O! mine, don’t think that I’ve forgotten,Tho’ parted now by many a weary mile.In every little pool I see reflected,Your eyes forever tender with a smile

And someday when GOD calls me from my dreamingAnd draws me from life’s loneliness apart,I’ll carry all these things that I remember—About you, up to heaven in my heart.

IHAVE come a long wayOver sea and sod.I found nothing small as me,Nothing great as GOD.God has in his keepingEternities of time.He hears worlds of troubleBut, gives ear to mine.He sways stars and planets,“Keeps the keys of death.”But in his loving kindnessPaused to give me breath.I have seen a mountainSweet flowers, a bird, a tree.God has lovely childrenDare he look on me?

IHAVE come a long wayOver sea and sod.I found nothing small as me,Nothing great as GOD.

God has in his keepingEternities of time.He hears worlds of troubleBut, gives ear to mine.

He sways stars and planets,“Keeps the keys of death.”But in his loving kindnessPaused to give me breath.

I have seen a mountainSweet flowers, a bird, a tree.God has lovely childrenDare he look on me?

ISAT with dreams and mated them with shadowsWhere sunlight flecked the grass and trickled thruEach swaying twig and branch of spruce and elderAdoringly, they somehow spoke of you.I sat tense-eyed, my longing vision sensing,An unseen, art-wise hand begin to trace.With all love’s magic trickery displayingTo me; your hair, your pallid waiting face.In all these voiceless years of night and grievingAbove thy grave I grasp this gleam of grace.Perhaps sometime, where is no pain or partingI’ll smile again into your waiting face.

ISAT with dreams and mated them with shadowsWhere sunlight flecked the grass and trickled thruEach swaying twig and branch of spruce and elderAdoringly, they somehow spoke of you.

I sat tense-eyed, my longing vision sensing,An unseen, art-wise hand begin to trace.With all love’s magic trickery displayingTo me; your hair, your pallid waiting face.

In all these voiceless years of night and grievingAbove thy grave I grasp this gleam of grace.Perhaps sometime, where is no pain or partingI’ll smile again into your waiting face.

THERE are two roads near Joppa townAnd here I doubting stood,For one went winding round the hillThe other thru the wood.And if I took the winding road’Twould lead me thru the mall,Of noise and gossipers for whichI have no heart at all.Sweet briar nodded from the hill,The blue bells from the shade.A purple finch decided me,So in the wood I stayed.A brooding bird and restless young,Began to chide and fret.And wonder in bird fashion whatI ever came to get.A green snake ran across my pathIts eyes were jewel small.A flying squirrel left a tree,That seemed ten paces tall.I picked a fern that had uncurledItself from out the ground.And O! the wood delighted me,The way it stood around.And there were holy moments whenMy very soul went still.And sad I was for folks who tookThe road around the hill.And when I left the sancted place,My arms were loaded down.It cost me not one pang to shun,The road to Joppa town.

THERE are two roads near Joppa townAnd here I doubting stood,For one went winding round the hillThe other thru the wood.

And if I took the winding road’Twould lead me thru the mall,Of noise and gossipers for whichI have no heart at all.

Sweet briar nodded from the hill,The blue bells from the shade.A purple finch decided me,So in the wood I stayed.

A brooding bird and restless young,Began to chide and fret.And wonder in bird fashion whatI ever came to get.

A green snake ran across my pathIts eyes were jewel small.A flying squirrel left a tree,That seemed ten paces tall.

I picked a fern that had uncurledItself from out the ground.And O! the wood delighted me,The way it stood around.

And there were holy moments whenMy very soul went still.And sad I was for folks who tookThe road around the hill.

And when I left the sancted place,My arms were loaded down.It cost me not one pang to shun,The road to Joppa town.

WHEN I was but a little girlMere flotsam on life’s sea,Because of youth a lovely roseMeant, just a rose to me.Before I knew that love was life,And life were all of love.The sky was only atmosphereAnd God frowned up above.But now I am a woman grownAnd know love tenderly,I can not tell you dear how muchGod’s roses mean to me.

WHEN I was but a little girlMere flotsam on life’s sea,Because of youth a lovely roseMeant, just a rose to me.

Before I knew that love was life,And life were all of love.The sky was only atmosphereAnd God frowned up above.

But now I am a woman grownAnd know love tenderly,I can not tell you dear how muchGod’s roses mean to me.

WHEN June comes back again I’ll sitAway back from the road and dipMy face and arms in clover blooms,And drink my fill of their perfumes,And steep myself in one great gleamOf sunlight, and I’ll dream,And dream,And dream.I’ll lean back in the grass and sighAnd look love at the blue, blue sky.Until my senses reel and reel,Like elm tree branches and a feel—Of drowsiness oozes between,My eyelids, while I dream,And dream,And dream.A lethargy binds tongue and lips,And creeps down to my fingertips.Troubles, cares and everything,Float out past my remembering.And all the world is one great beamOf gladness, while I dream,And dream,And dream.

I’ll lean back in the grass and sighAnd look love at the blue, blue sky.Until my senses reel and reel,Like elm tree branches and a feel—Of drowsiness oozes between,My eyelids, while I dream,And dream,And dream.

A lethargy binds tongue and lips,And creeps down to my fingertips.Troubles, cares and everything,Float out past my remembering.And all the world is one great beamOf gladness, while I dream,And dream,And dream.

LIKE a careless child in the drifts it stoodAgainst the darkness of the wood,Even the path was not cut throughUp to the door it led you to.Beauty untarnished, but never a soundSave for the whispering trees around.Its shining eyes on the cold world shoneWarm and bright from its snowy comb.Cheer was the word the blue fume wroteAs it cleared itself from the chimney’s throat.The drifts that lay on the tent like shedsWere like the covers of untouched beds.A great white garment of snow and frostWas laid on the fence, but the hedge was lost.A-while away the home garden parkDivides itself from the woods soft dark.Dear God I said, you had meant to pleaseWhen giving man such gifts as these.

IDID not always know ’twas kindOf thee to let me pass,And with my sacrilegious feetWalk lightly thru thy grass.How could I know, when I was young’Twas one of thine own dreams,To tender me the license ofThy hills and singing streams.How could’st thou take even a partOf thy remotest time,And weld me, poor unworthly link,Into this chain of thine.One day I learned at cost of painAmong the shadows dim,Thy gift of violets, Oh! GodTheir fragrance cutting in.I set apart one hallowed dayForever dear to me.Because thou taughtest me to loveA flowering apple tree.And since I’ve older grown and drawnTo solitudes apart,I find I cannot tell the LordAll that is in my heart.

IDID not always know ’twas kindOf thee to let me pass,And with my sacrilegious feetWalk lightly thru thy grass.

How could I know, when I was young’Twas one of thine own dreams,To tender me the license ofThy hills and singing streams.

How could’st thou take even a partOf thy remotest time,And weld me, poor unworthly link,Into this chain of thine.

One day I learned at cost of painAmong the shadows dim,Thy gift of violets, Oh! GodTheir fragrance cutting in.

I set apart one hallowed dayForever dear to me.Because thou taughtest me to loveA flowering apple tree.

And since I’ve older grown and drawnTo solitudes apart,I find I cannot tell the LordAll that is in my heart.

Then I go on from here I’ll takeThe ever pleasant memory of a lake.I’ll tightly lock within my spirit breastThe picture of a grim old mountain’s crest.A little stream’s song running ever clearAnd all the lonely places I hold dear.A mocking bird, a drenched and dripping tree.O! I shall keep my hunger for the sea.I shall keep my knowledge of the paths I knowThe gates of many mornings and the glow,Of sunset, on a firegold window pane,The mist on young nasturtiums after rain.Virginia creeper on some quaint old garden wallThe sound of dropping nuts, I’ll take them all.The falling leaves, the closing of the year,I’ll not forget, tho’ I go on from here.These tho’ts I shall retain (e’en past the gates of death),Of burnished autumn leaves, a tiny baby’s breath.In my heart I’ll take the Heaven’s most untried heightA moon drowned flower, from some star riven night.I shall remember thru great ages of GOD’S timeThe wind in clover, rain in summer time.Think you I could forget, thru death’s wild fret and painThe look of slim young birches in the rain?

Then I go on from here I’ll takeThe ever pleasant memory of a lake.I’ll tightly lock within my spirit breastThe picture of a grim old mountain’s crest.

A little stream’s song running ever clearAnd all the lonely places I hold dear.A mocking bird, a drenched and dripping tree.O! I shall keep my hunger for the sea.

I shall keep my knowledge of the paths I knowThe gates of many mornings and the glow,Of sunset, on a firegold window pane,The mist on young nasturtiums after rain.

Virginia creeper on some quaint old garden wallThe sound of dropping nuts, I’ll take them all.The falling leaves, the closing of the year,I’ll not forget, tho’ I go on from here.

These tho’ts I shall retain (e’en past the gates of death),Of burnished autumn leaves, a tiny baby’s breath.In my heart I’ll take the Heaven’s most untried heightA moon drowned flower, from some star riven night.

I shall remember thru great ages of GOD’S timeThe wind in clover, rain in summer time.Think you I could forget, thru death’s wild fret and painThe look of slim young birches in the rain?

THE wonder never went out of her eyesWhen she saw the sweep of our wide blue skies,The things we farmers forget in the painOf sowing and planting and reaping again.Things taken for granted loose the touchOf newness and dazzle we love so much.While she, soft-eyed and with shining face,Found pleasure in all things about the place.She gathered the flowers in wind and rainThat we called common and tho’t real plain.From the sweep of our lawn to the poppy bedFlaunting their colors about her head.Till we ourselves looked with glad new eyesOn an old, old setting, but a new sunrise.Cold grey days she would rise and singFor she found beauty in everything.Will she ever know in the city streetHow we think of her when the snow and sleet,Make houses enjoyable things to own,How often we mention her name at home?Can she ever know with her warm flower heart,How she gave us back what we lost in part.How the thought of her when it’s cold with rain,Fills the house and the halls, with herself again.

THE wonder never went out of her eyesWhen she saw the sweep of our wide blue skies,The things we farmers forget in the painOf sowing and planting and reaping again.

Things taken for granted loose the touchOf newness and dazzle we love so much.While she, soft-eyed and with shining face,Found pleasure in all things about the place.

She gathered the flowers in wind and rainThat we called common and tho’t real plain.From the sweep of our lawn to the poppy bedFlaunting their colors about her head.

Till we ourselves looked with glad new eyesOn an old, old setting, but a new sunrise.Cold grey days she would rise and singFor she found beauty in everything.

Will she ever know in the city streetHow we think of her when the snow and sleet,Make houses enjoyable things to own,How often we mention her name at home?

Can she ever know with her warm flower heart,How she gave us back what we lost in part.How the thought of her when it’s cold with rain,Fills the house and the halls, with herself again.

THE sun, the wind, and rainThe trees, the flowers and skies,A grosbeak’s noteFrom its flaming throatAnd my bosom is tossed with sighs.Eyebeams and locks of hairThe curve of a white cheek near,Each day of the weekFilled full of the sweetReminders of you, my dear.The crowd and the city street,A hill that is bleak and bare.A fleecy cloudFloating high and proudAnd I think of my darling’s hair.A voice that is strangely likeYour own that I turn to see;A silvery laugh,Convincing me halfMy dreams have been fooling me.

THE sun, the wind, and rainThe trees, the flowers and skies,A grosbeak’s noteFrom its flaming throatAnd my bosom is tossed with sighs.

Eyebeams and locks of hairThe curve of a white cheek near,Each day of the weekFilled full of the sweetReminders of you, my dear.

The crowd and the city street,A hill that is bleak and bare.A fleecy cloudFloating high and proudAnd I think of my darling’s hair.

A voice that is strangely likeYour own that I turn to see;A silvery laugh,Convincing me halfMy dreams have been fooling me.

BECAUSE,There never was a voice on earthCould soothe its harrowings,That’s why these souls God gave to usAre always lonely things.Because,Life is so short, and death so sure,And worlds uncertain things,And time so fleet and heaven so highSouls have such restless wings.Because,’Twas fashioned in the heavenly realmOf God’s creative schemes,That’s why a soul goes hungrilyFrom dream to shining dream.

BECAUSE,There never was a voice on earthCould soothe its harrowings,That’s why these souls God gave to usAre always lonely things.

Because,Life is so short, and death so sure,And worlds uncertain things,And time so fleet and heaven so highSouls have such restless wings.

Because,’Twas fashioned in the heavenly realmOf God’s creative schemes,That’s why a soul goes hungrilyFrom dream to shining dream.

WHEN you are twining wreaths of rose and columbineTo soften outlines of a tomb too new,Remember, spring makes little tents all green and coolFor soldier boys this old world never knew.When spring comes tripping down the lane once moreAnd children bring you violets of blue,When your tender heart is strained, beyond the breakingLet this be my farewell, dear heart, to you.When spring comes romping, singing, back again,Dressed in her garments fragrant, fresh and new;When once more robins sing among the budding treesAll honey sweet, with apple blooms and dew.When you have searched the woods as once you didFor specimens of moss and long, dank fern,Remember, that I too have loved the flowersBut, look no more, no more for my return.

WHEN you are twining wreaths of rose and columbineTo soften outlines of a tomb too new,Remember, spring makes little tents all green and coolFor soldier boys this old world never knew.

When spring comes tripping down the lane once moreAnd children bring you violets of blue,When your tender heart is strained, beyond the breakingLet this be my farewell, dear heart, to you.

When spring comes romping, singing, back again,Dressed in her garments fragrant, fresh and new;When once more robins sing among the budding treesAll honey sweet, with apple blooms and dew.

When you have searched the woods as once you didFor specimens of moss and long, dank fern,Remember, that I too have loved the flowersBut, look no more, no more for my return.

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