 | War-lyrics and other poems |  |
LONG AGO.
When at eve I sit alone,
Thinking on the Past and Gone—
While the clock, with drowsy finger,
Marks how long the minutes linger—
And the embers, dimly burning,
Tell of Life to Dust returning—
Then my lonely chair around,
With a quiet, mournful sound,
With a murmur soft and low,
Come the Ghosts of Long Ago.
Thinking on the Past and Gone—
While the clock, with drowsy finger,
Marks how long the minutes linger—
And the embers, dimly burning,
Tell of Life to Dust returning—
Then my lonely chair around,
With a quiet, mournful sound,
With a murmur soft and low,
Come the Ghosts of Long Ago.
One by one, I count them o'er,
Voices, that are heard no more,
Tears, that loving cheeks have wet,
Words, whose music lingers yet—
Holy faces, pale and fair,
Shadowy locks of waving hair—
Happy sighs and whispers dear,
Songs forgotten many a year,—
Lips of dewy fragrance—eyes
Brighter, bluer than the skies—
Odors breathed from Paradise.
Voices, that are heard no more,
Tears, that loving cheeks have wet,
Words, whose music lingers yet—
Holy faces, pale and fair,
Shadowy locks of waving hair—
Happy sighs and whispers dear,
Songs forgotten many a year,—
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Brighter, bluer than the skies—
Odors breathed from Paradise.
And the gentle shadows glide
Softly murmuring at my side,
Till the long unfriended day,
All forgotten, fades away.
Softly murmuring at my side,
Till the long unfriended day,
All forgotten, fades away.
Thus, when I am all alone,
Dreaming o'er the Past and Gone,
All around me, sad and slow,
Come the Ghosts of Long Ago.
Dreaming o'er the Past and Gone,
All around me, sad and slow,
Come the Ghosts of Long Ago.
| War-lyrics and other poems | |