In those happy days of yore.
Could we gaze on life’s emprise,
Frozen tears would dim our eyes;
Rippling laughs on lips would freeze
As the future’s death-cold breeze
Chilled the life of loving hearts;
Happy days would come no more,
And we’d sigh with fitful starts
For those happy days of yore.
Here I noticed the striking difference (the only difference throughout the two poems) between the wishes of the two, both passionately and beautifully put, and paused a moment to grasp the full meaning. But only a moment, for I was too interested in this enchanting symphony to wait longer. Already the poet in spider’s form that was the more delicate, beautiful, and pathetic was continuing.—