 | Sursum Corda |  |
80
THE LOVERS' WALK.
A long green pathway in a tangled wood,—
The trees meet overhead.
Here, where I stand with you, how oft have stood
How many lovers dead!
The trees meet overhead.
Here, where I stand with you, how oft have stood
How many lovers dead!
The gentleness of all past lovers here
Abides in grass and tree,
An unseen flower that springs anew each year
Sure as the flowers we see.
Abides in grass and tree,
An unseen flower that springs anew each year
Sure as the flowers we see.
For human influence dies not; everywhere,
In woods, fields, valleys, hills,
Houses, and churches, some more hallowed air
The older places fills.
In woods, fields, valleys, hills,
Houses, and churches, some more hallowed air
The older places fills.
81
Therefore do stories of the noble dead,
Treasured in any land,
More sanctify than priestly office said,
Or touch of saintly hand.
Treasured in any land,
More sanctify than priestly office said,
Or touch of saintly hand.
| Sursum Corda | |