Classic Poem

Last year, when roses were in bloom,
When flag-flowers dyed the river-banks,
When every gracious thing had room,
To feel the sun and render thanks;

When winds went blowing out to sea
Loaded with clover-scented balms,
And in their soaring minstrelsy,
Seemed echoes of rejoicing psalms;

When wave on wave, the tide returned,—
A siren singing on the sand;—
I, waiting, with my whole heart yearned
To hear his boat's keel touch the land;

I, waiting, wasted half the night,
Faint grew the planets, pale and far;
For him, a fairer morning light,
Dawned with the tender morning star.