An Eclipse of Venus

 

The Art of Victorian Life

One of the aspects of Victorian newspapers I adore, is that they included poetry to a notable extent each week.

Today's poem is from the Brodhead Register's March 7th, 1885 edition:

An Eclipse of Venus

"We said good-by when all the birds Flew homeward to the south;
Two very unimportant words Framed in a rosebud mouth; I held a slender hand awhile
I knew it wasn't right And when I missed her sunny smile It seemed the depth of night.
A very common incident,
Yet when a year had passed, What'er I did, where'er I went,
Remembrance held it fast; I longed to see her rosy face Below her soft, brown hair, And so I sought the charmed place. And waited for her there.
O, where was Edith - where was she Who once had graced this spot? Here was the seat beneath the tree. But Edith - she was not.
Ye stars above that shine so pure, Hear my Apocalypse! My star was on her wedding tour, And I was in eclipse. 

-Life."