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THE LIBRARY

OF

THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA

LOS ANGELES






, N ' ^



THE GARDEN OF DREAMS:

Lin-trs anD



BY

LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON.

AUTHOR OF "SWALLOW FLIGHTS," ETC.



Not wholly in the busy world, nor quite
Beyond it, blooms the garden that I love.



MACMILLAN AND CO.
1890.



UNIVERSITY PRKSS:
JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A.



T 35



(To tf)r fflnnorn



PHILIP BOURKE MARSTON

AMD

CICELEY NARNEY MARSTON.



/ hang this try at your fosttrn door.

FRANCIS QUARLBS.



800817



ILLUSTRATIONS.



'circe.



The designs by H. Winthrop Pet
Engraved by John Andrew and Son Co., Boston.



PAGE

LUTE AND FLUTE AND MINSTRELSY 10

"BURSTING BUDS THAT JUNES UNFOLD" .... 11

LOVE'S RESURRECTION DAY 13

TELEMACHUS 73

TINTERN ABUEY 109

" BUT OMINOUSLY THROUGH THOSE HALLS THERE FELL

STRANGE SOUNDS AS OF OLD MUSIC IN THE AIR" 112

LILY AND STAR 120

THE STILL HOUR 121

LIGHT 133

ROSEMARY 137

MEMORY 146

THE SINGER 148

L'AMOUR DU RONDEAU 171



'T is my delight alone in summer shade
To pipe a simple song for thinking hearts.

WORDSWORTH.



TABLE OF CONTENTS.



ILgttcg.

PACE

COME BACK, DEAR DAYS . . 1 1

LOVE'S RESURRECTION DAY 13

THE STRENGTH OF THE HILLS 14

" IF THERE WERE DREAMS TO SELL " l6

IN THE RANKS 18

EROS 19

LAUS VENERIS 20

PARLEYING 22

IN BOHEMIA 23

To NIGHT 24

WHEN DAY WAS DONE ... 25

MAUD'S ROSES -27

"THEIR CANDLES ARE ALL OUT" ' 28

To MISTRESS ROSE 30

AT MIDNIGHT 31

IN A BOWER 33

ROSES 34

THE GHOST'S RETURN 35

As I SAIL 37

A GIRL'S FUNERAL IN MILAN -39



ii TABLE OF CONTENTS.

PAGE

IN A GARDEN 4

AT END 4~

THE COQUETTE'S DEFENCE 43

Do NOT GRIEVE 45

OLD JONES is DEAD 46

GRANDMAMMA'S WARNING 48

MAID MARION 49

A LITTLE COMEDY 51

IN AUTUMN 53

AT FIVE O'CLOCK 54

BESIDE A BIER 55

RED AND WHITE ROSES 56

MY SAINT 57

WARNING 58

THE ROSE SHE WORE IN WINTER 59

SHALL NOT KNOW ? 60

FOR A BIRTHDAY . 62

A MOOD OF LOVE 63

NAY 64

THE ROSES OF LA GARRAYE 65

Now AND THEN 67

" THE KING is DEAD, LONG LIVE THE KING ! " . . 68



Sonnets in fHang

HELEN'S CUP 73

SILENT SORROW 74

A CRY 75

LOVE'S EMPTY HOUSE 76

AFTER DEATH 77



TABLE OF CONTENTS. Ill

PAGE

VOICES ON THE WIND 78

THE CUP OF DEATH 79

To A MODERN POET So

THE LAST GOOD-BY 81

LOVE is DEAD 82

Hie JACET 83

LEFT BEHIND 84

FUTURE FORGIVENESS 85

IN PACE 86

A WOMAN'S KNOWLEDGE 87

IN SOLITUDE 88

BEYOND SIGHT AND SOUND 89

To ONE WHO HAS LOVED OFTEN 90

BEFORE THE SHRINE 91

ROSES AT SEA 92

A GHOST'S QUESTION 93

SISTER SORROW 94

HE LOVED 95

HEREAFTER 96

AT WAR 97

NEAR, YET FAR 98

A FALLEN HOUSE 99

MY MOURNER 100

AT SEA 101

LAURA SLEEPING 102

To ONE MOST UNHAPPY 103

IN THE COURT OF THE LIONS 104

MY CASTLE 105

BY MARCH WIND LED 106

MY MOTHER'S PICTURE 107

AT A RUINED ABBEY 108



TABLE OF CONTEXTS.

rconti Oiife Speaks.





PAGE


I. A PARABLE


. . 113


II. SILENT


. . 114


III. A SECOND PLACE


"5


IV. ALONE IN DEATH


. . 116


V. FACE TO FACE


. . 117


f)E ttll ?i]OUr.




IN THE PINE WOODS AT MARIENHAD . . .


. . 121


HELP THOU MY UNBELIEF!


. . 122


SHALL I LOOK BACK?


- . 123


STRAIGHT ON TO PORT


. . 124


A PRAYER IN SORROW


. . 125


ON HOMEWARD WING


. . 126


IN MID-OCEAN


. . 127


As IN VISION


. . 128


A PRAYER FOR LIGHT


. . 129


COME UNTO ME


130


A RAINY AFTERNOON


I3 1


HARK, TEN THOUSAND HARPS AND VOICES!


132


iftosemnro.




RALPH WALDO EMERSON


'37


AN OPEN DOOR . .


i "8


BEHIND THE MIST


l j




'39


HER GHOST




AT END OF PAIN


140
143


A SILENT GUEST


144


LOUISA M. ALCOTT .


\AS.



TABLE OF CONTENTS. V

2To JFrcnrfj uiug.

RONDELS.

PACK

THE SPRING is HERE 149

EASTER SUNDAY 150

HEART, SAD HEART 151

Two RED ROSES 152

THE SHADOW-DANCE 153

IN FEBRUARY 154

THE OLD BEAU 155

To JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 156

RONDEAUX.

"WITH THOSE CLEAR EYES" 157

LOVE'S GHOST 158

HOW COULD I TELL? 159

WHEN LOVE WAS YOUNG 160

IF LOVE COULD LAST 161

O SWEETEST MAID ! - ... 162

IF YOU WERE HERE 163

TRIOLETS.

SUCH JOY IT WAS 164

WE LOVED SO WELL 165

So BLITHELY ROSE l66

THISTLE-DOWN .... 167

LOVE PLUMES HIS WINGS 168

BALLADE.

IN WINTER . 169




COME BACK, DEAR DAYS.



COME back, dear days, from out the past !
... I see your gentle ghosts arise ;
You look at me with mournful eyes,
And then the night grows vague and vast :
You have gone back to Paradise.

Why did you fleet away, dear days ?

You were so welcome when you came !

The morning skies were all aflame ;
The birds sang matins in your praise ;

All else of life you put to shame.

Did I not honor you aright,
I, who but lived to see you shine,
Who felt your very pain divine,

Thanked God and warmed me in your light,
Or quaffed your tears as they were wine?



12 LYRICS,

What wooed you to those stranger skies,
What love more fond, what dream more fair,
What music whispered in the air?

What soft delight of smiles and sighs
Enchanted you from otherwhere ?

You left no pledges when you went :

The years since then are bleak and cold ;
No bursting buds the Junes unfold.

While you were here my all I spent ;
Now I am poor and sad and old.



LOl'E'S RESURRECTION DAY 13






LOVE'S RESURRECTION DAY.

"DOUND among the quiet graves,
* When the sun was low,
Love went grieving, Love who saves
Did the sleepers know?

At his touch the flowers awoke,

At his tender call
Birds into sweet singing broke,

And it did befall

From the blooming, bursting sod
All Love's dead arose,

And went flying up to God

By a way Love knows.




1 4 L YRICS.



THE STRENGTH OF THE HILLS.

FOR L. I. G.

\ /TY thoughts go home to that old brown house
***- With its low roof sloping down to the east,
And its garden fragrant with roses and thyme
That blossom no longer except in rhyme,
Where the honey-bees used to feast.

Afar in the west the great hills rose,

Silent and steadfast and gloomy and gray :
I thought they were giants, and doomed to keep
Their watch while the w 7 orld should wake or sleep,
Till the trumpet should sound on the judgment
day.

I used to wonder of what they dreamed

As they brooded there in their silent might,
While March winds smote them, or June rains fell,
Or the snows of winter their ghostly spell
Wrought in the long and lonesome night.

They remembered a younger world than ours,

Before the trees on their top were born,
When the old brown house was itself a tree,
And waste were the fields where now you see
The winds astir in the tasselled corn.



THE STRENGTH OF THE HILLS. 15

And I was as young as the hills were old,

And the world was warm with the breath of spring,
And the roses red anil the lilies white
Budded and bloomed for my heart's delight,
And the birds in my heart began to sing.

But calm in the distance the great hills rose,

Deaf unto rapture and dumb unto pain,
Since they knew that Joy is the mother of Grief,
And remembered a butterfly's life is brief.
And the sun sets only to rise again.

They will brood and dream and be silent as now,

When the youngest children alive to-day
Have grown to be women and men, grown old,
And gone from the world like a tale that is told,
And even whose echo forgets to stay.



1 6 LYRICS.



IF THERE WERE DREAMS TO SELL.



If there were dreams to sell,
What would you buy ?

BEDDOES.



IF there were dreams to sell,
Do I not know full well
What I would buy?
Hope's dear delusive spell
Its happy tale to tell,
Joy's fleeting sigh.

I would be young again :
Youth's madding bliss and bane

I would recapture ;
Though it were keen with pain,
All eke seems void and vain

To that fine rapture.

I would be glad once more,
Slip through an open door

Into Life's glory ;
Keep what I spent of yore,
Find what I lost before,

Hear an old story.



"WERE DREAMS TO SELL." \7

As it one day befell,
Breaking Death's frozen spell,

Love should draw nigh :
If there were dreams to sell,
Do I not know too well

What I would buy?




1 8 L YRICS.



IN THE RANKS.

T T IS death-blow struck him there in the ranks,
** There in the ranks, with his face to the foe :
Did his dying lips utter curses or thanks ?
No one will know.

Still he marched on, he with the rest,

Still he marched on, with his face to the foe,
To the day's bitter business sternly addressed :

Dead did they know?

When the day was over, the fierce fight done,

His cheeks were red with the sunset's glow ;
And they crowned him there with their laurels won :
Dead did he know?

Laurels or roses, all one to him now :

What to a dead man is glory or glow ?
Rose wreaths for love, or a crown on his brow :
Dead does he know ?

And yet you will see him march on with the rest,

No man of them all makes a goodlier show,
In the thick of the tumult jostled and pressed :

Dead would you know ?



A'OS. 19



EROS.

T^TLL the swift clays full, ray dear,

* Since life is fleet ;

Ix>ve, and hold Love fast, my dear,

He is so sweet
Sweetest, dearest, fleetest comer,
Fledgling of the sudden summer.

Love, but not too well, my dear !

When skies are gray,
And the autumn winds are here,

Love will away
Fleetest, vaguest, farthest rover
When the summer's warmth is over.



20 L YRICS.



LAUS VENERIS:

A PICTURK PA' nURXK JOXES.

T)ALLID with too much longing,
* White with passion and prayer,
Goddess of love and beauty,
She sits in the picture there,

Sits with her dark eyes seeking
Something more subtle still

Than the old delights of loving
Her measureless days to fill.

She has loved and been loved so often
In her long, immortal years,

That she tires of the worn-out rapture,
Sickens of hopes and fears.

No joys or sorrows move her,
Done with her ancient pride ;

For her head she found too heavy
The crown she has cast aside.



LA US VENERIS. 21

Clothed in her scarlet splendor,

Bright with her glory of hair,
Sad that she is not mortal,

Eternally sad and fair,

Longing for joys she knows not,

Athirst with a vain desire,
There she sits in the picture,

Daughter of foam and fire.




L YRICS.



T
*



PARLEYING,

HOLD a shadow's cold, soft hand,

I look in eyes you cannot see,
And words you cannot understand
Come hack, as from a distant land,
The far-off land of Memory.

Forgive me that I sit apart

And hold the shadow's hand in mine,
The past broods darkly in my heart,
And bitter are the tears that start ;

I would not mix them with the wine.

The hour will pass : the shade will go
To his dark home, and swift forget,

At rest the daisied turf below,

The sun-warmed hours we used to know,
And the old paths wherein we met.

I am alive ! Why should the dead

With cold hand hold the quick in thrall?
To his far place the shade has sped,
Now Life with Life may gayly wed !
. . . My heart misgives me, after all.



IN BOHEMIA. 23



IN BOHEMIA.

T CAME between the glad green hills.
^ Whereon the summer sunshine lay,

And all the world was young that day,
As when the Spring's soft laughter thrills

The pulses of the waking May
You were alive yet scarce I knew
The world was glad because of you.

I came between the sad green hills,
Whereon the summer twilight lay,
And all the world was old that day,

And hoary age forgets the thrills
That woke the pulses of the May

And you were dead how well I knew

The world was sad because of you.



24 LYRICS.



TO NIGHT.

"DEND low, O dusky Night,
^~~^ And give my spirit rest ;

Hold me to your deep breast,
And put old cares to flight ;
Give back the lost delight
That once my soul possessed,
When Love was loveliest,
Bend low, O dusky Night :

Enfold me in your arms,
The sole embrace I crave
Until the embracing grave

Shield me from life's alarms.

I dare your subtlest charms :
Your deepest spell I brave,
O, strong to slay or save,

Enfold me in your arms !



DAY WAS DOXE. 2$



WHEN DAY WAS DONE.

FOR L. W.

'"PHE clouds that watched in the west have fled

The sun has set anil the moon is high ;
And nothing is left of the day that is dead
Save a fair white ghost in the eastern sky.

While the day was dying we knelt and yearned,
And hoped and prayed till its last breath died ;

But since to a radiant ghost it has turned,
Shall we rest with that white grace satisfied ?

The fair ghost smiles with a pale, cold smile,
As mocking as life and as hopeless as death

Shall passionless beauty like this beguile ?
Who loves a ghost without feeling or breath?

I remember a maiden as fair to see,

Who once was alive, with a heart like June ;

She died, but her spirit wanders free,

And charms men's souls to the old mad tune.

Warm she was, in her life's glad day,
Warm and fair, and faithful and sweet ;

A man might have thrown a kingdom away
To kneel and love at her girlish feet.



26 L YRICS.

But the night came down, and her day was done ;

Hoping and dreaming were over for aye ;
And then her career as a ghost was begun.

Cold she shone, like the moon on high.

For maiden or moon shall a live man yearn?

Shall a breathing man love a ghost without

breath ?
Shine, moon, and chill us, you cannot burn ;

Go home, Girl-Ghost, to your kingdom of death.




AM A CD'S ROSES. 27



MAUD'S ROSES.

A LONE all day in my cabin,
** With never a mortal to see,
I look at Maud's delicate roses,
And the roses look at me.

Like her they are fair and stately ;

Like her they are proud and sweet ;
And their hue seems made of her blushes,

Where the roses and lilies meet.

And what is their subtle fragrance
But the love that she bade them tell,

Or the breath she breathed through their petals
When she lingered to say farewell ?

Ah ! roses that stayed when she vanished,
Ah ! roses that smile, though she went,

How you mock at the sadness of parting,
With your passionless, perfect content !



28 LYRICS.



"THEIR CANDLES ARE ALL OUT."

FOR L. C. B.

T 17 HAT hap dismays the dead ? Their couch is
^ V low ;

And over it the summer grasses creep,
Or winter snows enshroud it, white and deep,

Or long-prevailing winds of autumn blow.

They hear no rumor of our joy or woe :
The ways we tread are perilous and steep ;
They climb no longer, free at last to sleep,

Our weariful, vexed life no more to know.

Do they forget their loves of long ago,

And the glad hopes that made their glad hearts

leap ?
Or the spent joys for which they used to weep,

When Love and Sorrow buffeted them so?

On us, by winds of Fate swept to and fro,

Do they have pity, whom no rude winds sweep ?
How can I tell ? Their mystery they keep,

Beneath the blossoms as beneath the snow.



" THEIR CANDLES ARE ALL OUT."

And yet, I think, from that deep rest below,
They would be glad to rise and love and weep
Once more the thankless harvest field to reap

Of human joy and pain, life's whole to know.



30 LYRICS.



TO MISTRESS ROSE.



A ROSE by any other name?
"^^ Nay, that could hardly be.
No other name, my Flower of June,
Could be the name for thee.



Dear darling of the summer-time

And love-child of the sun,
Whether by thy sweet breath beguiled

Or by thy thorns undone,

I know thee for the Queen of Flowers,
And toast thee by thy name,

" Here 's to the sweet young loveliness
That sets our hearts aflame ! "



A T MIDNIGHT. 3 1



AT MIDNIGHT.



'"PHE room is cold and dark to-night :
A The fire is low,
Why come you, you who love the light,
To mock me so?

I pray you leave me now alone ;

You worked your will.
And turned my heart to frozen stone,

Why haunt me still ?

I got me to this empty place ;

I shut the door,
Yet through the dark I see your face

Just as of yore.

The old smile curves your lips to-night ;

Your deep eyes glow
With that old gleam that made them bright

So long ago.

I listen : do I hear your tone

The silence thrill ?
Why come you ? I would be alone ;

Why vex me still ?



32 LYRICS.

What ! Would you that we re-embrace,

We two once more ?
Are these your tears that wet my face

Just as before ?

You left to seek some new delight,

Yet your tears flow ;
What sorrow brings you back to-night ?

Shall I not know ?

I will not let you grieve alone,

The night is chill,
Though love is dead and hope has flown,

Pity lives still.



How silent is the empty space !

Dreamed I once more ?
Henceforth against your haunting face

I bar the door.



IN A BOWER. 33



IX A BOWER.

A MAIDEX sits in her bower and sings,
^ And your heart keeps time to the tune :
In the garden walks the red rose springs,
The month is June.

The month is June, and full are the days,

Fair days, of the summer fed ;
And softly the singer sings her lays :
Her lips are red.

A face she has that is pale as Sleep,
And hair like the midnight skies
When the wings of tempest across them sweep,
And strange dark eyes.

The song she sings is a siren's song,

A tempting, dangerous rune,
If you hark at all you will hear too long
That fatal tune.



34 L YRICS.



ROSES.

T3 OSES that briefly live,
Joy is your dower ;
Blest be the Fates that give

One perfect hour.
And, though too soon you die,

In your dust glows
Something the passer-by

Knows was a Rose.



THE cj/osrs RETURN. 35



THE GHOST'S RETURN.

TO ACK through the rain and mist
^ Of my far way,
I have come, whom you kissed
That other day.

See, love, I wait outside

While the rains fall :
Through the night, void and wide,

Hark to my call.

Do you falter, you who loved

So long and well,
Now I my love have proved,

Breaking Death's spell ?

Leaving those pale delights

Dead folk that thrill,
Through their dim days and nights,

Wait I your will.

Dear love, unbar the door,

Life is so sweet !
Warmed on your heart once more,

My heart shall beat.



L YRICS.

Snatch me from very Death :
Heaven will forgive.

Breathe in my lips your breath
Then I shall live.

Nay, but you shrink with fear,
No welcome speak,

Now shall the grave be dear,
Love is so weak.




AS I SAIL. 37



AS I SAIL.

T^AR on the gray sea glooms and glowers.
* Far off the salt winds vaguely stray,
And through the long monotonous hours
My thoughts go wandering on their way ;

Go back to find that earlier time
When, lingering by a bluer sea,

A poet wooed me with his rhyme,

And all the world was changed for me.

The winds to music strange were set,
The sunsets glowed with sudden flame,

And all the shining sands were wet

With waves that whispered as they came,

And told a tender low-breathed tale
Of love that always should be young ;

Dear love that should not change or fail,
Such love as love-lorn bards have sung.

Pale roses bloomed by that far sea,
And shivered at the sea-winds breath ;

A bird flew low, and sang to me
'* The end of love and life is death."



38 LYRICS.

I left the pale rose where it grew ;

I would not heed the warning bird ;
Of all the world I, only, knew

How sweet the music I had heard,

How dear the love, how true the truth
My poet uttered in his rhyme ;

And how it gave me back my youth
In that deep-hearted summer-time.

Then winter came ; the pale rose died,
And to the south the wise bird flew ;

And I ah me, the world is wide,
And poets love while love is new.



A GIRL'S FUNERAL IN MILAN. 39



A GIRL'S FUNERAL IN MILAN.

'"THERE in the strange old gilded hearse
*~ With a mound of paper-flowers on her breast,
Her life being over, for better or worse,
They bore her on to her final rest.

And the women followed her, two by two,
And talked of how young she was to die :

And the cold drops drenched them through and

through,
As under the pitiless, frowning sky

On they marched in the drizzling rain

To the little old church in the Milan square,

Where the choir-boys chanted with shrill refrain,
And the toothless Padre muttered his prayer ;

Then straight to the waiting grave they went ;

And the rain rained on, and the wind was still ;
Since, all her treasure of life being spent,

It was time Death had of the girl his will.

And they left her there with the rain and the wind,
Glad, I think, to have come to the end ;

For the grave folds close, and the sod is kind,
And thus do the friendless find a friend.



40 L YRICS.



IN A GARDEN.

PALE in the pallid moonlight,
White as the rose on her breast,
She stood in the fair Rose-garden
With her shy young love confessed.

The roses climbed to kiss her,
The violets, purple and sweet,

Breathed their despair in the fragrance
That bathed her beautiful feet.

She stood there, stately and slender,
Gold hair on her shoulders shed,

Clothed all in white, like the visions
When the living behold the dead.

There, with her lover beside her,
With life and with love she thrilled

What mattered the world's wide sorrow
To her with her joy fulfilled?



Next year, in the fair Rose-garden,
He waited, alone and dumb,

If perchance from the silent country
The soul of the dead would come,



IN A GARDEN. 4 1

To comfort the living and loving

With the ghost of a lost delight,
And thrill into quivering welcome

The desolate, brooding night :

Till softly a wind from the distance

Began to blow and blow ;
The moon bent nearer and nearer,

And, solemn and sweet and slow,

Came a wonderful rapture of music
That turned to her voice, at last :

Then a cold, soft touch on his forehead.
Like the breath of the wind that passed,

Like the breath of the wind she touched him ;

Thin was her voice anil cold ;
And something that seemed like a shadow

Slipped through his feverish hold :

But the voice had said, " I love you,
With my first love and my last ''

Then again that wonderful music,

And he knew that her soul had passed.



42 L YRICS.



AT END.

T end of Love, at end of Life,

At end of Hope, at end of Strife,
At end of all we cling to so
The sun is setting must \ve go?



A



At dawn of Love, at dawn of Life,
At dawn of Peace that follows Strife,
At dawn of all we long for so
The sun is rising let us go !



THE COQUETTE'S DEFENCE. 43



THE COQUETTE'S DEFENTE.

TD ED, red roses glowing in the garden,
"^ Rare, white lilies swaying on your stalks,
Did you hear me pray my sweet love for pardon,
Straying with him through your garden walks?

Ah, you glow and smile when the sun shines upon

you

You thrill with delight at the tears of the'dew,
And the wind that caresses you boasts that he won

you
Do you think, fair flowers, to them all to be true ?

Sun, dew, and wind, ah, they all are your lovers
Sun, dew, and wind, and you love them back
again

And you flirt with the idle, white moth that hovers
Above your sweet beauty, and laugh at his pain.

Must I, then, be deaf to the wooers that love me,
And because I can hear should my sweet Love
complain ?

Does he not, in forgiving me, stand high above me,
And punish my fault with his gentle disdain ?



44 L YRICS.

You trifle, fair flowers, with the many, but one lord
Wooes you, and wins you, and conquers the

throng :

Dews and winds cool you, for warmth you turn sun-
ward,
You know and I know to whom we belong.



DO NOT GRIEVE. 45



DO NOT GRIEVE.

T WOULD not have you mourn too much,
* When I am lying low,
Your grief would grieve me even then,
Should your tears flow.

But only plant above my grave

One little sprig of rue ;
Then find yourself a fairer love,

But not more true.

The summer winds will come and go

Above me as I lie ;
And if I think at all, my dear,

As they pass by,

I shall remember the old love,

With all its bliss and bane,
Though Life nor Death can bring me back

The old, sweet pain.



46 LYRICS.



OLD JONES IS DKAD.

T SAT in my window, high overhead,

And heard them say, below in the stie^t,
"I suppose you know that old Jones is dead?"

Then the speakers passed, and I heard their feet
Heedlessly walking their onward way,
" Dead ! " what more could there be to say ?

But I sat and pondered what it might mean
Thus to be dead while the world went by :

Did Jones see farther than we have seen ?

\Yas he one with the stars in the watching sky?

Or down there under the growing grass

Did he hear the feet of the daylight pass?

Were daytime and night time as one to him now.
And grieving and hoping a tale that is told ?

A kiss on his lips, or a hand on his brow,

Could he feel them under the church-yard mould,

As he surely had felt them his whole life long,

Though they passed with his youth-time, hot and
strong?



OLD JONES IS DEAD. 47

They called him " Old Jones " when at last he died ;

" Old Jones " he had been for many a year ; %
Yet his faithful memory Time defied,

And dwelt in the days so distant and dear,
When first he had found that love was sweet


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Online LibraryLouise Chandler MoultonIn the garden of dreams: lyrics and sonnets → online text (page 1 of 4)