Can take away that rapture, yours and mine.
Others may weep, who would give all for this,
To find what we have found—the golden hour!
The Dream-Way
It did not look so far, and yet, and yet,
The moments were so easy to forget,
For now without your hand to guide, it seems
I seek in vain to find a way of dreams.
A moon-lit path between aspiring trees,
’Neath wind-blown leaves rustling in harmonies,