When we walked together among the flowers,
When the world with beauty was all aglow,
O, the rain and dew! O, the shine and showers
Of the sweet old spring of the long ago,
The ever and ever so long ago!
A hunger for all of the past delight
Is stirred by the winds that softly blow,
O, spare but a thought, dear, from heaven to-night
For the sweet old spring of the long ago,
The ever and ever so long ago!
The Height
THE climbing step by step up pathways steep
Had wearied me upon that summer day,
Till, by-and-by, a strong hand seemed to sweep
All save the joyousness of life away,
The heavens stretched their azure folds above—
I stood, my feet upon the dizzy height
I had not thought to reach save in my dreams;
The whirring of an eagle’s wings in flight
Towards rarer winds, and still more dazzling gleams
Of the red sun, was every sound abroad.
Full sweet the silence of the solemn place
Where nature, radiant, drew so close to God,
You saw His very kiss upon her face,
And heard the mystic murmur of His love.
Her Portrait
A LITTLE child, she stood that far-off day,
When Love, the master-painter, took the brush
And on the wall of mem’ry dull and grey
Traced tender eyes, wide brow, and changing blush,
The gladness and the youth, the bending head
All covered over with its curls of gold,
The dimpled arms, the two hands filled with bread
To feed the little sparrows brown and bold
That flutter to her feet. It hangs there still,
Just as ’twas painted on that far-off day,
Nor faded is the blush upon the cheek,
The sweet lips hold their smiling and can thrill,
And still the eyes—so tender, and so meek—
Light up the walls of mem’ry dull and gray.