They gossip of old yesterdays, of merry times or ill.
But here beyond the twilight stray two who only see
The promise of to-morrow—the dawn that is to be.
Below them in the village the quiet hearth-flames glow,
With friendly word and greeting the neighbours come and go,
But here the silence folds them together, each to each,
And lights within the mating eyes the dream beyond their speech.
Below them in the village stay honest toil and truth,—
They rest there who adventured the road of love and youth.
Smile out, old hearts, when once again two take the path you know,