Thy dear lips spoke the tender words so sweet,
It was thy hand which sought to guide the way
Along life’s road, and set my faltering feet
Upon the narrow path which leads to day,
So long ago.
So long ago; I see thee, heart of gold.
Just as of yore, thou pure, fair spirit—yet,
Though o’er thy grave the flowers their buds unfold
I mourn thee still with passionate regret,
For long ago.
It cometh in my dreams, that olden grace,
And grave, sweet look, but lo; upon thy brow
A soft light shines. And, Oh! thy gentle face
Presses my tearful one as closely now
As long ago.
Dear eyes which shimmered in a silver mist,
I see them now as in the dim, sweet past
Smiling on me, ere death had softly kissed
And sealed them, but to ope in Heaven at last
As long ago.
