I will dream the old, old dreams,
And look for pixie and fay
In shadowy woods—and out on the hills—
As we did but yesterday.
Love I will keep in my soul—
Ay! even by lock and key!
There is nothing to fear in all of the world
If Love will but stay with me.
No, I will not let Faith go!
I will say with my latest breath—
I know there's a new and radiant road
On the other side of Death.
THE HARP
Across the wind-swept spaces of the sky
The harp of all the world is hung on high,
And through its shining strings the swallows fly.
The little silver fingers of the rain
Oft touch it softly to a low refrain,
That all day long comes o'er and o'er again.
And when the storms of God above it roll,
The mighty wind awakes its sleeping soul
To songs of wild delight or bitter dole.
And through the quiet night, as faint and far
As melody down-drifted from a star,
Trembles strange music where those harp-strings are.
But only flying words of joy and woe,
Caught from the restless earth-bound souls below,
Over the vibrant wires ebb and flow.
And in the cities that men call their own,
And in the unnamed places, waste and lone,
This harp forever sounds Life's undertone.