James and Mary Ford, eds. Every Day in the Year. 1902.
August 26To Celia Thaxter
By Annie FieldB
Thy little bird, the sandpiper, and I
Now stand alone;
And when mine eye
Returned from following thy upward flight,
And found him here, and heard his tone,
And saw the tiny wing unfurled,
(As oft for thee)
I knew thy messenger, ’twas he!
Is meek and full of joy in things that lie
Close to our feet;
He speeds along the sands, bidding my sight
Grow keen as thine.
He cries: “O love complete,
Thou hast become the leaf and flower
That whisper now companionship;
O follow, follow
Traveller mine!
Thou, too, shalt step
Into the hand’s-breadth hollow
Thy dust shall claim!
And no fair fame
Shall stead thee when the winds of life shall fall;
Only my call
To the unknown, untried, whither these wings
Now vanish; the fading bower
Can hold and soothe thee not!
O follow, follow,
’Tis Love who sings!
Love, love is here and beckons thee away;
My song leads on, thou canst not go astray!