 | [Poems by Howells in] Poems of two friends |  |
110
SONNET.
Alone I wander o'er the path we pressedWith lingering footsteps in the Long-ago,
And the soft summer moon hangs warm and low,
While languid stars are faint through all the West,
And though the form that then mine arm caressed,
Thrilling to feel the heart's quick ebb and flow,
Its zoning clasp no more shall ever know,
Still, still I wander with a sweet unrest:
For silver whispers haunt the dreamy air,
Like ghosts of words I never may forget;
The smiles, the welcome thou wert wont to wear,
Meet my fond seeking as of yore they met;
And at my side, grief-sanctified and rare,
The glory of thy presence lingers yet.
| [Poems by Howells in] Poems of two friends | |