IX.
AFTER TWO DAYS.
Another night has turned itself to day,
Another day has melted into eve,
And lo! again I tread the measured way
Of word and thought, the twain to interweave,
As flowers absorb the rays that they receive.
And, all along the woodland where I stray,
I think of thee, and Nature keeps me gay,
And sorrow soothes the soul it would bereave.