No more with him Love’s strewings lost to glean;

The hills of years now ever intervene,

And bid me say good-bye to you for aye,

Glad roads of Spring!

Saida

We passed along the high-road, you and I,

Though I remember not the place nor when;

Only the wonder of your face, and then

That you passed by.

But that was long ago, and I forget;

Perhaps ’twere better that I went alone,

You might not e’er have loved me had you known,

And yet, and yet—

In Arcady

Although ’tis but a memory,

Still in the days of long ago

We tended sheep in Arcady.

Then were we both of fancy free

And laughing Youth had much to show,

Although ’tis but a memory.

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