I
Footsteps soft as fall the rose's
Petals on a dewy lawn,
Shaken when the wind uncloses
Golden gateways for the dawn;
Laughter light as is the swallows'
Chatter in the evening sky,
Wafted upward from the hollows
Where the limpid waters lie;
Weeping faint as is the willow's
By the margin of the lake,
Trembling into tiny billows
That the silent teardrops make;
Phantoms fitful and uncertain
As the pearly autumn rain,
Sweeping on in cloudy curtain
Down the wide way of the plain.