University of Virginia Library

I.

II.

I would to God, my darling, you and I
Were somewhere lying very silently
Beneath the green sod of a mountain glen,
A place untilled and far from feet of men,
Yet not with stones made rough, not harsh and bare,
But greensward slopes with scattered woodland fair:
And there should be no birds to mock at us
With their full notes of descant amorous;
No nightingales should madden the sweet air
With passion such as ours in days that were:
For that is long since over and quite gone,
And our hearts can but ache to think thereon.
But sometimes when a still night flooded all
That serene place with moonlight mystical,
Then might we feel the heart of the great Earth
Beating through ours in peace that knows not mirth:
For that mild light should be to her more kind
Than parching sunshine or the strenuous wind:
And is not she too weary of the weight
Of her great being and mysterious fate,
And wearier ever of the restless race
Of foolish men, that for the little space
Of their poor lives are hurrying to and fro
To vex their souls with ever-gathering woe?
And so perchance in such sweet night and still
Likewise through us might some dim memory thrill
Of days forgotten long and far away,
When in her breast first without form we lay,
And no power yet had quickened heart and brain
To this immense capacity of pain.