The Poetical Works of Ernest Christopher Dowson Edited, with an introduction, by Desmond Flower |
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PRAETERITA |
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 | The Poetical Works of Ernest Christopher Dowson |  |
139
PRAETERITA
O childish forms and faces
That live in memorie's shrine;
O pleasant paths and places
That small feet trod with mine,
The old days that are dying
Soft melodies are sighing
Of something that is lying,
Pale in the past behind
That live in memorie's shrine;
O pleasant paths and places
That small feet trod with mine,
The old days that are dying
Soft melodies are sighing
Of something that is lying,
Pale in the past behind
The laughter that rejoices
Responds not to our quest,
The tender children's voices,
Are long time hushed to rest,
And all the stress of ages,
And all the love of sages
Can not return the pages
That life has once down pressed.
Responds not to our quest,
The tender children's voices,
Are long time hushed to rest,
And all the stress of ages,
And all the love of sages
Can not return the pages
That life has once down pressed.
Before us dawns the vista
Of all our days to be,
But shall we find, my sister,
The charm that used to be
We know now to our sorrow,
The sad and strange to morrow,
Can never never borrow
The old time mystery.
Of all our days to be,
But shall we find, my sister,
The charm that used to be
We know now to our sorrow,
The sad and strange to morrow,
Can never never borrow
The old time mystery.
140
When you and I did wander
On straying childish feet,
Before us lying yonder
The hills so strange and sweet;
When life was in the dawning,
The fair and golden morning
Sent unto us no warning
To stay the years' deceit.
On straying childish feet,
Before us lying yonder
The hills so strange and sweet;
When life was in the dawning,
The fair and golden morning
Sent unto us no warning
To stay the years' deceit.
The golden light has faded
That met our dazzled eyes,
The purple hills are shaded,
And leaden clouds arise;
And spring of childhood's gladness
And youth's brief summer madness
Has yielded to the sadness
Of dull autumnal skies.
That met our dazzled eyes,
The purple hills are shaded,
And leaden clouds arise;
And spring of childhood's gladness
And youth's brief summer madness
Has yielded to the sadness
Of dull autumnal skies.
| The Poetical Works of Ernest Christopher Dowson | |