 | Poems by William Wetmore Story |  |
213
AFTER MANY DAYS.
Yes, dear, I remember those old days,
And oh, how charming they were!
I doubt—no, I know that no others to come
Will ever such feelings stir.
We had only been married a few months.
And love, like a delicate haze,
Veiled in beauty the trivial doings,
The commonest facts of those days.
And oh, how charming they were!
I doubt—no, I know that no others to come
Will ever such feelings stir.
We had only been married a few months.
And love, like a delicate haze,
Veiled in beauty the trivial doings,
The commonest facts of those days.
Life was all smiling before us,
And nature was smiling around;
Spring hovering near us caressed us,
And joy with its aureole crowned;
'Mid the flowers and the trees in blossom,
Afar from the world we dwelt,
And the air was sweet with a thousand odors,
And the world like a full rose smelt.
And nature was smiling around;
Spring hovering near us caressed us,
And joy with its aureole crowned;
'Mid the flowers and the trees in blossom,
Afar from the world we dwelt,
And the air was sweet with a thousand odors,
And the world like a full rose smelt.
In the morning I used to leave you,
And that was the only pain;—
Through the grass with its dewdrops diamonded
We walked down the shadowy lane,
And as far as the gate you went with me,
And there, with a kiss we said
Good-by; and you lingering watched me,
And smiled and nodded your head,
And that was the only pain;—
Through the grass with its dewdrops diamonded
We walked down the shadowy lane,
And as far as the gate you went with me,
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Good-by; and you lingering watched me,
And smiled and nodded your head,
And waved your handkerchief to me,
And I constantly turned to see
If you still were there, and my daily work
Seemed a cruel necessity;
The last turn took you away from me,
As on to my task I went,
But your face all day looked up from the page,
As over my book I bent.
And I constantly turned to see
If you still were there, and my daily work
Seemed a cruel necessity;
The last turn took you away from me,
As on to my task I went,
But your face all day looked up from the page,
As over my book I bent.
And when day was over, how gladly
I rushed from the dusty town!
As I opened the gate, I whistled,
And there was your fluttering gown
As you ran with a smile to meet me,
With your brown curls tossing free,
And your arms were thrown about my neck
As I clasped you close to me.
I rushed from the dusty town!
As I opened the gate, I whistled,
And there was your fluttering gown
As you ran with a smile to meet me,
With your brown curls tossing free,
And your arms were thrown about my neck
As I clasped you close to me.
And the birds broke into a chorus
Of twittering joy and love,
And the golden sunset flamed in the trees,
And gladdened the sky above,
As up the lane together
We slowly loitered along,
While love in our hearts was singing
Its young and exquisite song.
Of twittering joy and love,
And the golden sunset flamed in the trees,
And gladdened the sky above,
As up the lane together
We slowly loitered along,
While love in our hearts was singing
Its young and exquisite song.
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The blood through our veins ran swiftly,
Like a stream of lambent fire;
Our thoughts were all winged, and our spirits
Uplifted with sweet desire.
My joy, my love, my darling,
You made the whole world sweet,
And the very ground seemed beautiful
That you pressed beneath your feet.
Like a stream of lambent fire;
Our thoughts were all winged, and our spirits
Uplifted with sweet desire.
My joy, my love, my darling,
You made the whole world sweet,
And the very ground seemed beautiful
That you pressed beneath your feet.
What was there more to ask for,
As I held you closely there,
And you smiled with those gentle, tender eyes,
And I breathed the scent of your hair?
Stop, Time, and speed no further!
Nothing, as long as we live,
Can give such a radiance of delight,
As one hour of love can give.
As I held you closely there,
And you smiled with those gentle, tender eyes,
And I breathed the scent of your hair?
Stop, Time, and speed no further!
Nothing, as long as we live,
Can give such a radiance of delight,
As one hour of love can give.
The lilacs were filling with fragrance
The air along the lane,
And I never smell the lilacs
But those hours revive again;
And oft, though long years have vanished,
One whiff of their scent will bring
Those old dear days, with their thrill of life,
When love was in blossoming.
The air along the lane,
And I never smell the lilacs
But those hours revive again;
And oft, though long years have vanished,
One whiff of their scent will bring
Those old dear days, with their thrill of life,
When love was in blossoming.
Time has gone on despite us,
We both have grown old and gray,
And love itself has grown old and staid,
But it never has flown away;
The fragile and scented blossom
Of springtime and youth is shed,
But its sound, sweet fruit of a large content
Hath ripened for us instead.
We both have grown old and gray,
And love itself has grown old and staid,
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The fragile and scented blossom
Of springtime and youth is shed,
But its sound, sweet fruit of a large content
Hath ripened for us instead.
| Poems by William Wetmore Story | |