AN OLD MAN'S IDYL.

Y the waters of Life we sat together,

BY

Hand in hand, in the golden days

Of the beautiful early summer weather,

When hours were anthems and speech was praise :
When the heart kept time to the carol of birds,
And the birds kept tune to the songs that ran
Through shimmer of flowers on grassy swards,
And trees with voices Eolian.

By the rivers of Life we walked together,
I and my darling, unafraid;
And lighter than any linnet's feather

The burdens of being on us weighed;
And Love's sweet miracles o'er us threw
Mantles of joy outlasting Time;

And up from the rosy morrows grew

A sound that seemed like a marriage-chime.

In the gardens of Life we roamed together;
And the luscious apples were ripe and red,
And the languid lilac and honeyed heather
Swooned with the fragrance which they shed.
And under the trees the Angels walked,
And up in the air a sense of wings
Awed us sacredly while we talked
Softly in tender communings.

In the meadows of Life we strayed together,
Watching the waving harvests grow;

AN OLD MAN'S IDYL.

And under the benison of the Father

Our hearts like the lambs skipped to and fro.
And the cowslips, hearing our low replies,
Broidered fairer the emerald banks;
And glad tears shone in the daisies' eyes,
And the timid violet glistened thanks.

Who was with us, and what was round us,
Neither myself nor darling guessed;
Only we knew that something crowned us
Out from the heavens with crowns of rest.
Only we knew that something bright
Lingered lovingly where we stood,
Clothed with the incandescent light
Of something higher than humanhood.

O the riches Love doth inherit !

Ah the alchemy which doth change Dross of body and dregs of spirit

Into sanctities rare and strange! My flesh is feeble, and dry, and old, My darling's beautiful hair is gray; But our elixir and precious gold

Laugh at the footsteps of decay.

Harms of the world have come upon us,
Cups of sorrow we yet shall drain;
But we have a secret which doth show us
Wonderful rainbows through the rain;
And we hear the tread of the years go by,

And the sun is setting behind the hills;

85

But my darling does not fear to die,
And I am happy in what God wills.

So we sit by our household fires together,
Dreaming the dreams of long ago.
Then it was balmy summer weather,
And now the valleys are laid in snow,
Icicles hang from the slippery eaves,

The wind grows cold, it is growing late. Well, well, - we have garnered all our sheaves,

-

I and my darling, -- and we wait.

Richard Realf.

BETROTHED ANEW.

THE sunlight fills the trembling air,
And balmy days their guerdons bring;

The Earth again is young and fair,
And amorous with musky spring.

The golden nurslings of the May
In splendor strew the spangled green,
And hues of tender beauty play,
Entangled where the willows lean.

Mark how the rippled currents flow;
What lustres on the meadows lie!
And hark! the songsters come and go,
And trill between the earth and sky.

BETROTHED ANEW.

Who told us that the years had fled,
Or borne afar our blissful youth?
Such joys are all about us spread,

We know the whisper was not truth.

The birds that break from grass and grove
Sing every carol that they sung

When first our veins were rich with love,
And May her mantle round us flung.

O fresh-lit dawn! immortal life!

O Earth's betrothal, sweet and true, With whose delights our souls are rife, And aye their vernal vows renew!

Then, darling, walk with me this morn;
Let your brown tresses drink its sheen;
These violets, within them worn,

Of floral fays shall make you queen.

What though there comes a time of pain

When autumn winds forebode decay? The days of love are born again;

That fabled time is far away!

And never seemed the land so fair

As now, nor birds such notes to sing,
Since first within your shining hair
I wove the blossoms of the spring.

Edmund Clarence Stedman.

87

E

THE LONG-AGO.

YES which can but ill define Shapes that rise about and near, Through the far horizon's line

Stretch a vision free and clear; Memories feeble to retrace Yesterday's immediate flow, Find a dear familiar face

In each hour of Long-Ago.

Follow yon majestic train

Down the slopes of old renown;
Knightly forms without disdain,
Sainted heads without a frown,
Emperors of thought and hand,
Congregate, a glorious show,
Met from every age and land,
In the plains of Long-Ago.

As the heart of childhood brings
Something of eternal joy
From its own unsounded springs,
Such as life can scarce destroy,
So, remindful of the prime,
Spirits wandering to and fro
Rest upon the resting-time
In the peace of Long-Ago.

Youthful Hope's religious fire,

When it burns no longer, leaves