Love And Time

This is the place, as husht and dead
As when I saw it long ago;
Down the dark walk with shadows spread
I wander slow.

The tangled sunlight, cold and clear,
Steals frost-white through the boughs around.
There is no warmth of summer here,
No summer sound.
Darnet and nettle, as I pass,
Choke the dim ways, and in the bowers
Gather the weeds and the wild grass
Instead of flowers.

O life! O time! O days that die!
O days that live within the mind!
Here did we wander, she and I,
Together twined.

We passed out of the great broad walk,
Beyond the emerald lawns we strayed,
We lingered slow in tender talk
Along the shade.

And then the great old maze we found,
And smiling entered it unseen,
Half sad, half glad, went round and round
Thro' windings green.

In the bright centre of the maze
A rose-bush grew, a dial gleam'd;
She pluck'd a rose... with blissful gaze
Watch'd it, and dreamed.

O life! O time! O days divine!
O dreams that keep the soul astir!
That hour eternity was mine,
Looking at her!

This is the place. I wander slow.
Dark are the shades of shrub and tree.
The dial stands, the leaves lie low,
But where is she?

O life! O time! O birds and flowers!
O withering leaves upon the bough!
Alas, she measures not her hours
With roses now.

The dial stands — the dark days roll —
From year to year the roses spring —
Eternity is in my soul,
Remembering.

The dial stands — the summer goes —
All changeth, nothing dieth, here!
And all reneweth like a rose,
From year to year.
Rate this poem: 

Become a Patron!

Reviews

No reviews yet.