A Confession

A Confession
by Agnes Louise Storrie (1865-1936)

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You did not know, - how could you, dear, -
How much you stood for? Life in you
Retained its touch of Eden dew,
And ever through the droughtiest year
My soul could bring her flagon here
And fill it to the brim with clear
Deep draughts of purity:
And time could never quench the flame
Of youth that lit me through your eyes,
And cozened winter from my skies
Through all the years that went and came.
You did not know I used your name
To conjure by, and still the same
I found its potency.
You did not know that, as a phial
May garner close through dust and gloom
The essence of a rich perfume,
Romance was garnered in your smile
And touched my thoughts with beauty, while
The poor world, wise with bitter guile,
Outlived its chivalry.
You did not know - our lives were laid
So far apart - that thus I drew
The sunshine of my days from you,
That by your joy my own was weighed
That thus my debts your sweetness paid,
And of my heart's deep silence made
A lovely melody.

Daisies

This bead is named for the poem,
Daisies by Evaleen Stein (1863-1923)

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Daisies

At evening when I go to bed
I see the stars shine overhead;
They are the little daisies white
That dot the meadow of the Night.

And often while I'm dreaming so,
Across the sky the Moon will go;
It is a lady, sweet and fair,
Who comes to gather daisies there.

For, when at morning I arise,
There's not a star left in the skies;
She's picked them all and dropped them down
Into the meadows of the town.

Dear Chains

This bead is named for the poem, Dear
Chains, by the Russian poet, Alexander Pushkin (1799-1837)


You can read more about the necklace at Beadshaper




Rose-maiden, no, I do not quarrel

With these dear chains, they don't demean.

The nightingale embushed in laurel,

The sylvan singers' feathered queen,

Does she not bear the same sweet plight?

Near the proud rose's beauty dwelling,

And with her tender anthems thrilling

The dusk of a voluptuous night.