What is there left for us to say,
Now it is time to speak good-by?
And all our dreams of yesterday
Are one with yester-evening’s sky—
What is there left for us to say,
Now different ways before us lie?
A word of hope, a word of cheer,
A word of love, whose help shall last,
When we are far to bring us near
Through memories of the happy past;
A word of hope, a word of cheer,
To keep our young hearts true and fast.
What is there left for us to do,
Now it is time to say farewell?
And care, that bade us once adieu,
Returns again with us to dwell—
What is there left for us to do,
Now different ways our fates compel?
Clasp hands and kiss, touch lips and smile,
And look the love that shall remain—
When severed so by many a mile—
The sweetest balm for bitterest pain:
Clasp hands and kiss, touch lips and smile,
And trust to God to meet again.
IN THE GARDEN OF GIRLS
Serious, but smiling, stately and serene,
And lovelier than a flower,
She stands; in whom all sympathies convene
As perfumes in a bower;
Through whom I feel what soul and heart must mean,
And all their love and power.
Eyes, that commune with the frank skies of truth,
Beneath their cloud-like curls;
Lips of immortal rose, where joy and youth
Nestle like priceless pearls;
Hair, that suggests the Bible braids of Ruth,
Deeper than any girl’s.
When first I saw her, ’t was as if within
My gaze took shape some song—
Played by a master of the violin—
A music, pure and strong,
That rapt my soul above all earthly sin
To heights that know no wrong.