 | The Lady of La Garaye |  |
Silent old gateway! whose two columns stand
Like simple monuments on either hand;
No trellised iron-work, with pleasant view
Of trim-set flowery gardens shining through:
No bolts to bar unasked intruders out;
No well-oiled hinge whose sound, like one low note
Of music, tells the listening hearts that yearn,
Expectant of dear footsteps, where to turn;
No ponderous bell whose loud vociferous tone
Into the rose-decked lodge hath echoing gone.
Bringing the porter forth with brief delay,
To spread those iron wings that cheek the way;
Nothing but ivy-leaves, and crumbling stone;
Silent old gateway,—even thy life is gone!
Like simple monuments on either hand;
No trellised iron-work, with pleasant view
Of trim-set flowery gardens shining through:
No bolts to bar unasked intruders out;
No well-oiled hinge whose sound, like one low note
Of music, tells the listening hearts that yearn,
Expectant of dear footsteps, where to turn;
No ponderous bell whose loud vociferous tone
Into the rose-decked lodge hath echoing gone.
Bringing the porter forth with brief delay,
To spread those iron wings that cheek the way;
100
Silent old gateway,—even thy life is gone!
| The Lady of La Garaye | |