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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408412" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Maid of Gerringong</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Rolling through the gloomy gorges, comes the roaring southern blast,<br>With a sound of torrents flying, like a routed army, past,<br>And, beneath the shaggy forelands, strange fantastic forms of surf<br>Fly, like wild hounds, at the darkness, crouching over sea and earth;<br>Swooping round the sunken caverns, with an aggravated roar;<br>Falling where the waters tumble foaming on a screaming shore!<br>In a night like this we parted. Eyes were wet though speech was low,<br>And our thoughts were all in mourning for the dear, dead Long Ago!<br>In a night like this we parted. Hearts were sad though they were young,<br>And you left me very lonely, dark-haired Maid of Gerringong.<br>Said my darling, looking at me, through the radiance of her tears:<br>“Many changes, O my loved One, we will meet in after years;<br>Changes like to sudden sunbursts flashing down a rainy steep —<br>Changes like to swift-winged shadows falling on a moony deep!<br>And they are so cheerless sometimes, leaving, when they pass us by,<br>Deepening dolours on the sweet, sad face of our Humanity.<br>But you’ll hope, and fail and faint not, with that heart so warm and true,<br>Watching for the coming Morning, that will flood the World for you;<br>Listening through a thirsty silence, till the low winds bear along<br>Eager footfalls — pleasant voices,” said the Maid of Gerringong.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Said my darling, when the wind came sobbing wildly round the eaves:<br>“Oh, the Purpose scattered from me, like the withered autumn leaves!<br>Oh, the wreck of Love’s ambition! Oh, the fond and full belief<br>That I yet should hear them hail you in your land a God-made chief!<br>In the loud day they may slumber, but my thoughts will not be still<br>When the weary world is sleeping, and the moon is on the hill;<br>Then your form will bend above me, then your voice will rise and fall,<br>Though I turn and hide in darkness, with my face against the wall,<br>And my Soul must rise and listen while those homeless memories throng<br>Moaning in the night for shelter,” said the Maid of Gerringong.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ay, she passed away and left me! Rising through the dusk of tears,<br>Came a vision of that parting every day for many years!<br>Every day, though she had told me not to court the strange sweet pain,<br>Something whispered — something led me to our olden haunts again:<br>And I used to wander nightly, by the surges and the ships,<br>Harping on those last fond accents that had trembled from her lips:<br>Till a vessel crossed the waters, and I heard a stranger say,<br>“One you loved has died in silence with her dear face turned away.”<br>Oh! the eyes that flash upon me, and the voice that comes along —<br>Oh! my light, my life, my darling dark-haired Maid of Gerringong.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Some one saith, “Oh, you that mock at Passion with a worldly whine,<br>Would you change the face of Nature — would you limit God’s design?<br>Hide for shame from well-raised clamour, moderate fools who would be wise;<br>Hide for shame — the World will hoot you! Love is Love, and never dies”<br>And another asketh, doubting that my brother speaks the truth,<br>“Can we love in age as fondly as we did in days of youth?<br>Will dead faces always haunt us, in the time of faltering breath?<br>Shall we yearn, and we so feeble?” Ay, for Love is Love in Death.<br>Oh! the Faith with sure foundation! — let the Ages roll along,<br>You are mine, and mine for ever, dark-haired Maid of Gerringong.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Last night, dear, I dreamt about you, and I thought that far from men<br>We were walking, both together, in a fragrant seaside glen;<br>Down where we could hear the surges wailing round the castled cliffs,<br>Down where we could see the sunset reddening on the distant skiffs;<br>There a fall of mountain waters tumbled through the knotted bowers<br>Bright with rainbow colours reeling on the purple forest flowers.<br>And we rested on the benches of a cavern old and hoar;<br>And I whispered, “this is surely her I loved in days of yore!<br>False he was who brought sad tidings! Why were you away so long,<br>When you knew who waited for you, dark-haired Maid of Gerringong?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“Did the strangers come around you, in the far-off foreign land?<br>Did they lead you out of sorrow, with kind face and loving hand?<br>Had they pleasant ways to court you — had they silver words to bind?<br>Had they souls more fond and loyal than the soul you left behind?<br>Do not think I blame you, dear one! Ah! my heart is gushing o’er<br>With the sudden joy and wonder, thus to see your face once more.<br>Happy is the chance which joins us after long, long years of pain:<br>And, oh, blessed was whatever sent you back to me again!<br>Now our pleasure will be real — now our hopes again are young:<br>Now we’ll climb Life’s brightest summits, dark-haired Maid of Gerringong.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“In the sound of many footfalls, did you falter with regret<br>For a step which used to gladden in the time so vivid yet?<br>When they left you in the night-hours, did you lie awake like me,<br>With the thoughts of what we had been — what we never more could be?<br>Ah! you look but do not answer while I halt and question here,<br>Wondering why I am so happy, doubting that you are so near.<br>Sure these eyes with love are blinded, for your form is waxing faint;<br>And a dreamy splendour crowns it, like the halo round a saint!<br>When I talk of what we will be, and new aspirations throng,<br>Why are you so sadly silent, dark-haired Maid of Gerringong?”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But she faded into sunset, and the sunset passed from sight;<br>And I followed madly after, through the misty, moony night,<br>Crying, “do not leave me lonely! Life has been so cold and drear,<br>You are all that God has left me, and I want you to be near!<br>Do not leave me in the darkness! I have walked a weary way,<br>Listening for your truant footsteps — turn and stay, my darling, stay!”<br>But she came not though I waited, watching through a splendid haze,<br>Where the lovely Phantom halted ere she vanished from my gaze.<br>Then I thought that rain was falling, for there rose a stormy song,<br>And I woke in gloom and tempest, dark-haired Maid of Gerringong!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Kendall">Henry Kendall</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408412" data-title="The Maid of Gerringong de Henry Kendall" data-description="Rolling through the gloomy gorges, comes the roaring southern blast,
With a sound of torrents flying, like a routed army, past,
And, beneath the shaggy forelands, strange fantastic forms of surf
Fly, like wild hounds, at the darkness, crouching ov..."></div>
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