I meant to tell her all my heart,
And yet—I know not why,
Upon the threshold of my lips
The story seemed to die.
It might have been the witchery,
The magic of her smile,
That in a spell held all my soul,
And kept me dumb the while!
It might have been that all too pure
For earth-born love seemed she;
From her white height of maidenhood
How could she stoop to me?
But eyes can prove more eloquent,
And though the tongue may fail,
In potent language they reveal
The old, old tender tale.
For, placing her slim hand in mine,
Methought I heard my name
So softly, murmurously breathed,
I scarce knew whence it came!
No need for words between us now;
A subtle sweetness stole
Through all our being, and we felt
That soul had answered soul.
And with the sunshine in our hearts,
The bird’s song in our ears,
We left the lane, my love and I,
To meet the coming years.
BURIED TREASURES
’Tis true my later years are blest
With all that riches can bestow,
But there is wealth, wealth cannot buy,
Hid in the mines of “Long Ago.”
There jealous guard does Memory keep;
Yet sometimes, when I dream alone,
She comes and takes my hand in hers,
And shows me what was once my own.