Confidence

Though this probably was written back in the 1920s or 30s, it seems especially appropriate on this ninth anniversary of one of the saddest and most horrific days in our nation's history.

Confidence

When shadows fall athwart thy path,

'Tis God Who Passes By!

Bow down in peace and praise and pray,

And even while you sign,

Remember this, -- Each sorrow is a shadow sweet

That tells how near Christ's nailed feet

Are walking by thy side

Then Let Thy Soul Confide!

Evelyn Coffey

Cast-Offs

Cast-Offs

A faded piece of silk,
A worn-out gown,
Saw all we had of friendship
Broken down.

“I meant to give you this,”
You coolly said,
“But it will be soft to mop
The floor instead.”

The stinging words live though
The silk is dust;
The gold I thought too dull
For you, is rust.

Evelyn Coffey

* * * * *
(handwritten on the back of one original, these lines:
Shall be my ode to immortality.
For this, the loveliest of man’s estate
All gladly would I wing the sky to west.)

Tribute to Age

Tribute to Age

Let me but see,

And I will wear the sheaf of white,

Its banner straining my blinded sight,

In this, my youth,

With purple truth!

Let me but know,

And I will wear the sheaf of white,

That shining pinion of Life's night,

Upon my head

Until I'm dead!

E. Coffey

Twilight's candle-glow

Reading Evelyn's poetry I often am amazed at the scope of her vocabulary. Was she a voracious reader to be on such good terms with so many archaic and beautiful words?

Blank Verse

And now, I dream in twilight’s candle-glow

Of haunts that trembled with the breeze’s hum;

Of green-lipped glens where budding bluebells tripped,

And I as likely sang to bird-like shallows.

Now blue of sky is black against white pillows

And silence, deep as life’s profundity,

Has wrung itself to earth’s once trilling song.

How happy I that thought has eerie wings;

That memory, licentious as the dawn

And welcome as its rainbow crescent hues,

May call with rose-clear eyes and peaceful glim

To vivify spring days that time has sped!

Evelyn Coffey

Fulfillment

Fulfilment

I dreamed he sang,

my little bird,

the sweetest song

I ever heard;

that in the night

his silent throat

had loosed its bands

of silver mote

in flaming tones

that woke the dark

and dimmed the stars’

immortal spark.

He climbed the throne

of death, my bird,

on wings of song

life never stirred.

Evelyn Coffey

Eternity

Still another poem in which her heart honors her mother and Rose.

Eternity

To Mama and Rose

Out of the dusk, a flame –

Out of the sky, a star,

Dripping light.

Out of my body, soul -

Out of my heart, my love,

Golden white,

Plunged in Hereafter

On dust-of-silver laughter,

Seeking you!

E. Coffey

Design

Design

Shining and white, like wax beneath gold flame,

and noiseless as dew’s tread on flower-tips,

her hand brushed shadows on the moonlight’s face.

Blue night stood still, and stars stopped chattering

while loveliness communed. What wonder that

divinity is dimpled in a rose?

God’s thought in fragile beauty shaped its root,

minute perfection in each small detail

alike of woman’s hand or bud-crowned stem.

Evelyn Coffey