That lie in the dim shadow of the years;

I fain would cheat myself of all my fears

And, as a child watching warm winter fires,

Dream not of yesterday's black embers, nor

To-morrow's ashes that may strew the floor.

I did not dream of this while thou wert near,

But now the thought that haunts me day by day

Is that the things I love, the tender way

Of mastery, the kisses that are dear

As Heaven's best gifts, to other lips and arms

Owe half their blessedness and all their charms.

[Pg 12]

Tell me that I am wrong, O! Man of men,

Surely it is not hard to comfort me,

Laugh at my fears with dear persistency,

Nay, if thou must, lie to me! There, again,

I hear the rain, and the wind's wailing cry

Stirs with wild life the night's monotony.

[Pg 13]

Song.

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