TWO DAYS
I
The slanted storm tossed at their feet
The frost-nipped autumn leaves;
The park's high pines were caked with sleet,
And ice-spears armed the eaves.
They strolled adown the pillared pines,
To part where wet and twisted vines
About the gate-posts blew and beat.
She watched him riding through the rain
Along the river's misty shore,
And turned with lips that laughed disdain:
“To meet no more!”
II
'Mid heavy roses weighed with dew
The chirping crickets hid;
I' the honeysuckle avenue
Sang the green katydid.
Soft southern stars smiled through the pines.
Through stately windows, draped with vines,
The drifting moonlight's silver blew.
She stared upon a face, now dead,
A soldier calm that wore;
Despair sobbed on the lips that said,
“To meet no more.”
