第81章 RECOLLECTIONS

As strangers,you and I are here;

We both as aliens stand,Where once,in years gone by,I dwelt No stranger in the land.

Then while you gaze on park and stream,Let me remain apart,And listen to the awakened sound Of voices in my heart.

Here,where upon the velvet lawn The cedar spreads its shade,And by the flower-beds all around,Bright roses bloom and fade;Shrill merry childish laughter rings,And baby voices sweet,And by me,on the path,I hear The tread of little feet.

Down the dark avenue of limes,Whose perfume loads the air,Whose boughs are rustling overhead,(For the west wind is there,)I hear the sound of earnest talk,Warnings and counsels wise,And the quick questioning that brought Such gentle calm replies.

Still the light bridge hangs o'er the lake,Where broad-leaved lilies lie,And the cool water shows again The cloud that moves on high;-And one voice speaks,in tones I thought The past for ever kept;But now I know,deep in my heart Its echoes only slept.

I hear,within the shady porch,Once more,the measured sound Of the old ballads that were read,While we sat listening round;The starry passion-flower still Up the green trellice climbs;The tendrils waving seem to keep The cadence of the rhymes.

I might have striven,and striven in vain,Such visions to recall,Well known and yet forgotten;now I see,I hear,them all!

The Present pales before the Past,Who comes with angel wings;As in a dream I stand,amidst Strange yet familiar things!

Enough;so let us go,mine eyes Are blinded by their tears;A voice speaks to my soul to-day Of long forgotten years.

And yet the vision in my heart,In a few hours more,Will fade into the silent past,Silently as before.