Читать книгу Poems - Julia C. R. Dorr - Страница 27

Table of Contents

We were children together, you and I; We trod the same paths in days of old; Together we watched the sunset sky, And counted its bars of massive gold. And when from the dark horizon’s brim The moon stole up with its silver rim, And slowly sailed through the fields of air, We thought there was nothing on earth so fair.

You walk to-night where the jasmines grow, And the Cross looks down from the tropic skies; Where the spicy breezes softly blow, And the slender shafts of the palm-trees rise. You breathe the breath of the orange-flowers, And the perfumed air of the myrtle-bowers; You pluck the acacia’s golden balls, And mark where the red pomegranate falls.

I stand to-night on the breezy hill, Where the pine-trees sing as they sang of yore; The north star burneth clear and still, And the moonbeams silver your father’s door. I can see the hound as he lies asleep, In the shadow close by the old well-sweep, And hear the river’s murmuring flow As we two heard it long ago.

Do you think of the firs on the mountain-side As you walk to-night where the palm-trees grow? Of the brook where the trout in the darkness hide? Of the yellow willows waving slow? Do you long to drink of the crystal spring, In the dell where the purple harebells swing? Would your pulses leap could you hear once more The sound of the flail on the threshing-floor?

Ah! the years are long, and the world is wide, And the salt sea rolls our hearts between; And never again at eventide Shall we two gaze on the same fair scene. But under the palm-trees wandering slow, You think of the spreading elms I know; And you deem our daisies fairer far Than the gorgeous blooms of the tropics are!