The Two Dinahs

" We take no note of time but by its loss :"
So spake a Poet in a mood of spleen,

To whom the world had lost its vernal gloss,
And woe retain'd its churchyard evergreen.

But I can note time by a better measure,
By God's sweet issues of progressive good ;

By happy progress from the lively pleasure
Of the brisk child to modest womanhood.

I knew ye both, young maidens, when ye dwelt
Where I was shelter'd with an aged woman,

Whose goodness, often seen but ofter felt,
To common duties gave a grace uncommon.

For ye were children ; — one a merry lass,
A sportive kitten mischievous and gay ;

A leveret bounding through the long thick grass,
When hounds are mute and winter far away.

But thou, sweet Dinah, wert a thing sedate,
For sorrow was thy comrade from thy birth ;

And early wert thou doom'd to feel the fate
Ordain'd to wean us from the joys of earth.

Years have gone by, yea, many years are flown,
And that good aged woman is removed ;

And ye, young damsels, both have far outgrown
The pretty age which then I liked and loved.
Never till now I felt myself so old.
As seeing you so tall, such bursting roses,
Just at the time when rosy buds unfold
Their sweet concealment into summer posies.
So may I measure time, nor cease to see
His silent work in still maturing graces ;
I quite forgive what he has done to me,
For what he has bestow'd on your sweet faces.