Tabb’s Poetry XXX

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The Cynosure

So let me in thy heaven of thought appear,
   As doth a twilight star—
The harbinger of tenderest hopes anear,
   And memories afar. 

Departure

Go now thy way, but whereso’er thou art,
   If sick again for home,
Know that the place forsaken in my heart
   Is vacant till thou come. 

My Secret

’Tis not what I am fain to hide
   That doth in deepest darkness dwell,
But what my tongue hath often tried,
         Alas, in vain, to tell. 

In Absence

All that thou art not, makes not up the sum
   Of what thou art, beloved, unto me:
All other voices, wanting thine, are dumb;
   All vision, in thine absence, vacancy. 

A Remonstrance

Sing me no more, sweet warbler, for the dart
Of joy is keener than the flash of pain;
Sing me no more, for the re-echoed strain
Together with the silence breaks my heart.

John B. Tabb

For a recitation, click the play button:

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“The Cynosure”: Lyrics, p. 155; Poetry, p. 353. 1897. A cynosure is a guide or focal point of attention; a harbinger is a forerunner or a foreshadowing.

“Departure”: Later Poems, p. 47; Poetry, p. 355. 1910.

“My Secret”: Lyrics, p. 169; Poetry, p. 354. March 1896. Fain means eager.

“In Absence”: Lyrics, p. 170; Poetry, p. 354. 1897.

“A Remonstrance”: Lyrics, p. 170; Poetry, p. 354. May 1896.

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