Embers, Volume 3.

This eBook was produced by David Widger
By Gilbert Parker
How many years of sun and snow Have come to Camden Town, Since through its streets and in its shade, I wandered up and down.
Not many more than to you here These verses hapless flung, Yet of the Long Ago they seem To me who am yet young.
We strive to measure life by Time, And con the seasons o'er, To find, alas! that days are years, And years for evermore.
The joys that thrill, the ill that thralls, Pressed down on heart and brain- These are the only horologues, The Age's loss or gain.
And I am old in all of these, And wonder if I know The man begotten of the boy, Who loved that long ago.
A lilac bush close to the gate, A locust at the door, A low, wide window flower-filled, With ivy covered o'er.
A face—O love of childhood dreams, Lily in form and name— It comes back now in these day-dreams, The same yet not the same.
My childhood's friend! Well gathered are The sheaves of many days, But this one sheaf is garnered in, Bound by my love always.
Where have you wandered, child, since when Together merrily, We gathered cups of columbine By lazy Rapanee?
The green spears of the flagflower, Down by the old mill-race, Are weapons now for other hands, Who mimic warfare chase.