Leonainie--Angels named her; And they took the light Of the laughing stars and framed her In a smile of white; And they made her hair of gloomy Midnight, and her eyes of bloomy Moonshine, and they brought her to me In the solemn night.--- In a solemn night of summer, When my heart of gloom Blossomed up to greet the comer Like a rose in bloom; All forebodings that distressed me I forgot as Joy caressed me-- (_Lying_ Joy! that caught and pressed me In the arms of doom!) Only spake the little lisper In the Angel-tongue; Yet I, listening, heard her whisper-- "Songs are only sung Here below that they may grieve you-- Tales but told you to deceive you,-- So must Leonainie leave you While her love is young." Then God smiled and it was morning. Matchless and supreme Heaven's glory seemed adorning Earth with its esteem: Every heart but mine seemed gifted With the voice of prayer, and lifted Where my Leonainie drifted From me like a dream. [Illustration: (LEONAINIE--TAILPIECE)] [Illustration: (HER WAITING FACE)] HER WAITING FACE In some strange place Of long-lost lands he finds her waiting face-- Comes marveling upon it, unaware, Set moonwise in the midnight of her hair. [Illustration: (THE OLD YEAR AND THE NEW--TITLE)] THE OLD YEAR AND THE NEW I As one in sorrow looks upon The dead face of a loyal friend, By the dim light of New Year's dawn I saw the Old Year end. Upon the pallid features lay The dear old smile--so warm and bright Ere thus its cheer had died away In ashes of delight. The hands that I had learned to love With strength of passion half divine, Were folded now, all heedless of The emptiness of mine. [Illustration: (I SAW THE OLD YEAR END)] The eyes that once had shed their bright Sweet looks like sunshine, now were dull, And ever lidded from the light That made them beautiful. II The chimes of bells were in the air, And sounds of mirth in hall and street, With pealing laughter everywhere And throb of dancing feet: The mirth and the convivial din Of revelers in wanton glee, With tunes of harp and violin In tangled harmony. But with a sense of nameless dread, I turned me, from the merry face Of this newcomer, to my dead; And, kneeling there a space, I sobbed aloud, all tearfully:-- By this dear face so fixed and cold, O Lord, let not this New Year be As happy as the old! THEIR SWEET SORROW They meet to say farewell: Their way Of saying this is hard to say.-- He holds her hand an instant, wholly Distressed--and she unclasps it slowly. He bends _his_ gaze evasively Over the printed page that she Recurs to, with a new-moon shoulder Glimpsed from the lace-mists that enfold her. The clock, beneath its crystal cup, Discreetly clicks--"_Quick! Act! Speak up!_" A tension circles both her slender Wrists--and her raised eyes flash in splendor.