And the marsh sunsets shed their gold and red
Over still hearts that once in torment fed
At Life's intolerable festival.
The plaster of the porch has fallen away
From the lean stones, that now are all awry,
And through the chinks a shooting ivy spray
Creeps in—sad emblem of fidelity—
And wreathes with life the pillars and the beams
Hewn long ago—with, ah! what faith and dreams!—
By men whose faith and dreams have long gone by.