THE FACE OF DREAMS
I
Where may I hide my loneliness and sorrow?
Where sings the bird that sang upon the tree,
When you and I were young, and feared no bleak to-morrow,
And trusted Love to lead us through the years that were to be?
II
The days, the years went by, the days we lived and loved,
When you and I were young, and sat beside the river,
Glad as all happy things that round us lived and moved,
And he heard the blackbird sing, saw the whispering aspens quiver.
III
The days, the years go by, like eddies in a stream,
That seem the same, yet glide from change to change for ever;
I feel them pass and change, and still I dream and dream
Of one sweet face, that save in dreams comes to me never.
