“Once he came, though his eyes were blind,
Up to the outer door;
The way within was too hard to find,
Peace! For he wakes no more.”
“Yet ye knew I had waited long,
Was I not always true?
How could I will sweet Love this wrong—
Where do ye bear him to?”
“Back to the land where he lives again,
Over the westward strand;
Over the waves and the cloud domain,
Into the rainbow land!”
“Then, sweet spirits, do this for grace,
Set my heart on his bier;
So, when he comes to his resting-place,
Love may awake and hear!”
NOS COLLINES D’AUTREFOIS.
Can you remember when we dwelt together,
In the golden land of childhood long ago;
Up on our mountain heights in the clear weather,
How we longed to see the valleys down below?
Lands so lovely never found we after,—
Oh, our winters with the wonder of their snows;
Oh, the swallows of our spring-time, and the laughter,
Oh, the starnight of our summers and the rose!
Well-belovèd in that land were all the faces,
None are like them of these dwellers in the plain;
Oh, why did we come down from our high places!
We can never climb the bitter hills again!