Wide sunlit meadows for the day,
And moon-bathed paths for evening hours;
A bright brief dream that had no past,
And of the future knew no fear;
A kiss at first, a sigh at last–
Only last year.
Another spring, dim soulless woods;
No farewell kiss, no parting tear;
No stone to mark where silence broods
O’er the dead love we found so dear.
But, oh, to me the green seems grey,
The budding branches all are sere,
For sweet love’s sake, that died one day,
Only last year.
And in this chamber, door locked fast,I held you to my heart at last.This was our house. In this we knewThe worst that Time and Fate can do.You left the room bare, wide the door;You did not love me any more.Where once the kind warm curtain hungThe spider’s ghostly cloth is flung;The beetle and the…
Your head on some warm pillow far away–Your head, so used to lying on my breast?But now your pillow is cold;Your hands have flowers, and not my hands, to hold;Upon our bed the worn bride-linen lies.I have put the death-money upon your eyes,So that you should not wake up in the night.I have bound your…
It seemed our marsh would never againWear the rich robes that once it wore.The scattered farms looked sad and chill,Their sheltering trees writhed all awry,And waves of mist broke on the hillWhere once the great sea thundered by.Then God remembered this His land,This little land that is our own,He caught the rain up in His…
Says he, ‘You take it easy! That ain’t the way to do!I love you hot as fire, my girl, and you know you know it too.So won’t you name the day?’But I said, ‘That I will not.’And I pushed him away,Out among the raspberries all on a summer day.And I says, ‘You ask in winter,…
She touched the pale still lily stalksAnd crowned them with delight;She breathed upon the rose’s headAnd filled its heart with fire,And with a golden carpet spreadThe path of my desire.The larkspurs stood like sentinelsTo greet her as she came,Soft rang the Canterbury bellsThe music of her name.She passed across the happy landWhere all dear dreams…
Fair linen sheets thereinAnd a tester of lead.No musty fusty scentsSuch as inn chambers keep,But tapestried with contentAnd hung with sleep.My Inn door bears no barSet up against fear.The guests have journeyed far,They are glad to be here.Where the damp arch curves up grey,Long, long shall we lie;Good King’s men all are they,A King’s man…
