 | [Poems by Gallagher in] Selections from the poetical literature of the West |  |
263
OLDEN MEMORIES.
There's a voice from every bird,
There 's a tone in every tree,
That recalls some burning word
I have uttered when with thee:
There 's an eye in every star,
There 's a look in every cloud,
That bears my thoughts afar
Where thou rulest Fashion's crowd.
There 's a tone in every tree,
That recalls some burning word
I have uttered when with thee:
There 's an eye in every star,
There 's a look in every cloud,
That bears my thoughts afar
Where thou rulest Fashion's crowd.
Every sweet and breathing flow'r
That scents the twilight breeze,
Hath a ministry and pow'r
Over “Olden Memories:”
Every ripple of the stream
That goes singing on its way,
Hath a tale of boyhood's dream,
And of manhood's merry May.
That scents the twilight breeze,
Hath a ministry and pow'r
Over “Olden Memories:”
264
That goes singing on its way,
Hath a tale of boyhood's dream,
And of manhood's merry May.
I have treasured every look,
I have garnered every tone,
Till my heart is like a book
Fill'd with memories alone:
I have asked no higher bliss,
'Mid the world's incessant din,
Since our last hope died, than this—
To dream of what hath been.
I have garnered every tone,
Till my heart is like a book
Fill'd with memories alone:
I have asked no higher bliss,
'Mid the world's incessant din,
Since our last hope died, than this—
To dream of what hath been.
And in the silence of the night,
And 'mid the bustle of the day,
Oft a vision glads my sight,
And I wish it not away:
But I wonder then if thou,
In thy far and wedded home,
Ever think'st of him who now
To thy presence may not come.
And 'mid the bustle of the day,
Oft a vision glads my sight,
And I wish it not away:
But I wonder then if thou,
In thy far and wedded home,
Ever think'st of him who now
To thy presence may not come.
| [Poems by Gallagher in] Selections from the poetical literature of the West | |