Lost Days
The tapestry of shadows—ghosts of dreams
That flickered through the silence and were gone,
Lost days that we together leaned upon
Have faded, and the recollection seems
As dim as sunken starlight in the streams,
When on a Summer night reflections wan
From cloudy heights to watery depths are drawn,
To glimmer in the current's under-gleams.
Lost days, but cherished; mirrored in a haze
Of threadbare seasons, Winter, Autumn, Spring,
And Summer with her moss-begirdled ways
And flash and flutter of a bird's soft wing;
But who shall pierce the labyrinthian maze
To tell us where their shades are wandering?
That flickered through the silence and were gone,
Lost days that we together leaned upon
Have faded, and the recollection seems
As dim as sunken starlight in the streams,
When on a Summer night reflections wan
From cloudy heights to watery depths are drawn,
To glimmer in the current's under-gleams.
Lost days, but cherished; mirrored in a haze
Of threadbare seasons, Winter, Autumn, Spring,
And Summer with her moss-begirdled ways
And flash and flutter of a bird's soft wing;
But who shall pierce the labyrinthian maze
To tell us where their shades are wandering?
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