One year ago my heart, like thine, sweet friend,
Thrilled to the music of the rustling leaves,
And loved all gentle harmonies that blend
In one low chorus, when the bosom heaves
With long drawn sighs of tremulous delight,
As slowly fades the day to deeper night.
And I have sat as now in this lone wood,
At twilight hour to commune with my heart,
All wilder thoughts at rest, a dreamy mood
Stole o’er my spirit; sorrow had no part