



Produced by Susan Skinner and the Online Distributed
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      SWEET HOURS


           BY
      CARMEN SYLVA


         LONDON
R. A. EVERETT & CO., LTD.
  42 ESSEX STREET, W.C.

          1904

 [_All rights reserved_]




CONTENTS


                                         PAGE
  TO THE MEMORY OF QUEEN VICTORIA           1

  A FRIEND                                  4

  OUT OF THE DEEP                           7

  A CORONATION                             10

  DOWN THE STREAM                          13

  IN THE RUSHING WIND                      16

  UNDER THE SNOW                           19

  SOLITUDE                                 21

  THE GNAT                                 24

  REST                                     27

  THE SHADOW                               32

  THE GLOWWORM                             35

  A DREAM                                  37

  IN THE DARK                              40

  THE SENTINEL                             43

  LETHE                                    47

  A DEBTOR                                 51

  "VENGEANCE IS MINE," SAITH THE LORD      54

  NIGHT                                    58

  ROUSED                                   62

  SADNESS                                  66

  WHEN JOY IS DEAD                         68

  A ROOM                                   71

  UNREST                                   74




TO THE MEMORY OF QUEEN VICTORIA

[Illustration]


  These ever wakeful eyes are closed. They saw
  Such grief, that they could see no more. The heart--
  That quick'ning pulse of nations--could not bear
  Another throb of pain, and could not hear
  Another cry of tortur'd motherhood.
  Those uncomplaining lips, they sob no more
  The soundless sobs of dark and burning tears,
  That none have seen; they smile no more, to breathe
  A mother's comfort into aching hearts.
  The patriarchal Queen, the monument
  Of touching widowhood, of endless love,
  And childlike purity--she sleeps. This night
  Is watchful not. The restless hand, that slave
  To duty, to a mastermind, to wisdom
  That fathom'd history and saw beyond
  The times, lies still in marble whiteness. Love
  So great, so faithful, unforgetting and
  Unselfish--must it sleep? Or will that veil,
  That widow's veil unfold, and spread into
  The dovelike wings, that long were wont to hover
  In anxious care about her world-wide nest,
  And now will soar and sing, as harpchords sing,
  Whilst in their upward flight they breast the wind
  Of Destiny. No rest for her, no tomb,
  Nor ashes! Light eternal! Hymns of joy!
  No silence now for her, who, ever silent,
  Above misfortunes' storms and thund'ring billows,
  Would stand with clear and fearless brow, so calm,
  That men drew strength from out those dauntless eyes,
  And quiet from that hotly beating heart,
  Kept still by stern command and unbent will
  Beneath those tight shut lips. Not ashes, where
  A