On The Threshold

Introduction To A Collection Of Poems By different Authors     An usher standing at the door     I show my white rosette;     A smile of welcome, nothing more,     Will pay my trifling debt;     Why should I bid you idly wait     Like lovers at the swinging gate?     Can I forget the wedding guest?     The veteran of the sea?     In vain the listener smites his breast, -     "There was a ship," cries he!     Poor fasting victim, stunned and pale,     He needs must listen to the tale.     He sees the gilded throng within,     The sparkling goblets gleam,     The music and the merry din     Through every window stream,     But there he shivers in the cold     Till all the crazy dream is told.     Not mine the graybeard's glittering eye     That held his captive still     To hold my silent prisoners by     And let me have my will;     Nay, I were like the three-years' child,     To think you could be so beguiled!     My verse is but the curtain's fold     That hides the painted scene,     The mist by morning's ray unrolled     That veils the meadow's green,     The cloud that needs must drift away     To show the rose of opening day.     See, from the tinkling rill you hear     In hollowed palm I bring     These scanty drops, but ah, how near     The founts that heavenward spring!     Thus, open wide the gates are thrown     And founts and flowers are all your own!