Carol and Cadence New poems: MDCCCCII-MDCCCCVII: By John Payne |
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GARDEN DAYS. |
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 | Carol and Cadence |  |
185
GARDEN DAYS.
Ah, how lightsome Life and Love erewhile were,
Yours and mine, beneath the summer moon,
When the world was glad and all a-smile were
Gardens in the starry nights of June,
When the jasmine stars were breaking,
Making
Mimic heavens of the trellised ways,
And the nightingales were waking,
Shaking
All the echoes with the rose's praise.
Nought but Summer in our life was;
Shadow none of care or strife was
On its stream.
Summer, Summer only I remember:
Autumn was a fable and December
Nothing but a peevish prater's dream.
Yours and mine, beneath the summer moon,
When the world was glad and all a-smile were
Gardens in the starry nights of June,
When the jasmine stars were breaking,
Making
Mimic heavens of the trellised ways,
And the nightingales were waking,
Shaking
All the echoes with the rose's praise.
Nought but Summer in our life was;
Shadow none of care or strife was
On its stream.
Summer, Summer only I remember:
Autumn was a fable and December
Nothing but a peevish prater's dream.
Dear, have you forgotten how the roses
Ran and revelled in the frolic green,
Broidering the blooming garden-closes
With their white and red and yellow sheen?
Never have I see them blowing,
Glowing
With such glory as possessed them then;
Never since such fragrance growing,
Flowing
From a flower-cup have I known again.
Sure our love it was that thrilled them;
'Twas our happiness that filled them
With Heav'n's wine:
For our love-lit eyes it was they glistened;
And they whispered perfume, as they listened
To our talk and kisses, yours and mine.
Ran and revelled in the frolic green,
Broidering the blooming garden-closes
With their white and red and yellow sheen?
Never have I see them blowing,
Glowing
With such glory as possessed them then;
Never since such fragrance growing,
Flowing
From a flower-cup have I known again.
Sure our love it was that thrilled them;
'Twas our happiness that filled them
With Heav'n's wine:
For our love-lit eyes it was they glistened;
And they whispered perfume, as they listened
To our talk and kisses, yours and mine.
186
Now, though June again, at its completest,
In the garden-alleys breathes and glows,
Though the nightingales again their sweetest
Ditties trill in honour of the rose,
Though the moon at full is rilling,
Stilling
All to silence with its silver rays,
Yet the flower-scents no more filling,
Thrilling
Are with rapture all the rose-hung ways.
Dear, what is it, then, that ails them?
What is it to-day that fails them?
'Tis our love!
'Twas our love, grown cold since then, our kisses,
Caused them erstwhile in the flooding blisses
Bloom and flourish of the moon above.
In the garden-alleys breathes and glows,
Though the nightingales again their sweetest
Ditties trill in honour of the rose,
Though the moon at full is rilling,
Stilling
All to silence with its silver rays,
Yet the flower-scents no more filling,
Thrilling
Are with rapture all the rose-hung ways.
Dear, what is it, then, that ails them?
What is it to-day that fails them?
'Tis our love!
'Twas our love, grown cold since then, our kisses,
Caused them erstwhile in the flooding blisses
Bloom and flourish of the moon above.
| Carol and Cadence | |