 | New songs of innocence |  |
81
THE GARDEN OF THE TOWN.
We look from our lampless casement
Into the lighted street;
The wet stones gleam in the basement,
The cool night air is sweet.
The skies are dewy and tender
With stars just out of sight;
There's a glow of hidden splendour
Behind the veil of night.
Into the lighted street;
The wet stones gleam in the basement,
The cool night air is sweet.
The skies are dewy and tender
With stars just out of sight;
There's a glow of hidden splendour
Behind the veil of night.
The lamps we mocked so lately
Show now their flowery flames;
The houses tall and stately
Stand like patrician dames.
From their dark but shapely masses,
Outlined in living fire,
An old enchantment passes,
And stirs an old desire.
Show now their flowery flames;
The houses tall and stately
Stand like patrician dames.
From their dark but shapely masses,
Outlined in living fire,
An old enchantment passes,
And stirs an old desire.
The dream we dropped comes o'er us,
Of pleasure here on earth:
Tired are the wings that bore us
From men and social mirth.
Though ours be the upland hilly
And the forest-glory brown,
There's a glamour yet, my Willie,
O'er the garden of the town!
Of pleasure here on earth:
Tired are the wings that bore us
From men and social mirth.
Though ours be the upland hilly
And the forest-glory brown,
There's a glamour yet, my Willie,
O'er the garden of the town!
| New songs of innocence | |