Again the pasture lands we see

Where in the golden summer glow

We tended sheep in Arcady.

And hear the tender harmony

Of shepherd pipes that softly blow,

Although ’tis but a memory.

Nor thought of any end had we

As through the grasses to and fro

We tended sheep in Arcady.

So, what if life now empty be,

Of all the past this do we know,

Although ’tis but a memory,

We tended sheep in Arcady!

The Summer Rain

As one who listens to the summer rain

Against the roof when all the night is still,

Save for the wind beneath the window-sill,

Crooning its homely, comforting refrain,—

And listening feels that neither joy nor pain

Can trouble now—only the faint sweet thrill

 Prev. P 20/37 next