THE OLD STORY.
109
I floated down an amber-bosomed stream,
And gazed on summer skies with half-closed eyes!
Now, the soft veil of love and youth is rent:
When will my life be filled with still content?
Never again!
And gazed on summer skies with half-closed eyes!
Now, the soft veil of love and youth is rent:
When will my life be filled with still content?
Never again!
THE OLD STORY.
The hills were purple in the twilight haze,
Eastward the full moon showed her silver rim,
And whitely o'er the chain of rock-bound bays
The damp cool sea-fog on the breeze sailed in.
Eastward the full moon showed her silver rim,
And whitely o'er the chain of rock-bound bays
The damp cool sea-fog on the breeze sailed in.
They stood together by the garden-gate,
Lengthening the sweet sad moments as they might;
The west sky lost its crimson, and, like Fate,
Upon their heads fell down the autumn night.
Lengthening the sweet sad moments as they might;
The west sky lost its crimson, and, like Fate,
Upon their heads fell down the autumn night.
He held her hand, and all his ardent face
Grew radiant at the touch so subtly sweet!
This old, old earth for him wore fresh new grace,
And turned to love, and joy, beneath his feet!
Grew radiant at the touch so subtly sweet!
This old, old earth for him wore fresh new grace,
And turned to love, and joy, beneath his feet!
He said his love was like the eternal hills,
Steadfast, unchanging, as their line of blue!
And in the quiet of the evening stills
He gave his solemn promise to be true!
Steadfast, unchanging, as their line of blue!
And in the quiet of the evening stills
He gave his solemn promise to be true!
