 | The Lady of La Garaye |  |
But ere those columns, lost in ivied shade,
Black on the midnight sky their forms pourtrayed;
And ere thy gate, by damp weeds overtopped,
Swayed from its rusty fastenings and then dropped,—
When it stood portal to a living home,
And saw the living faces go and come,
What various minds, and in what various moods,
Crossed the fair paths of these sweet solitudes!
Black on the midnight sky their forms pourtrayed;
And ere thy gate, by damp weeds overtopped,
Swayed from its rusty fastenings and then dropped,—
When it stood portal to a living home,
And saw the living faces go and come,
What various minds, and in what various moods,
Crossed the fair paths of these sweet solitudes!
| The Lady of La Garaye | |