"Veterans are my books, with tarnished gilding: Yet there is one gives back to the winter grate Gold of a sunset flooding a college building, Gold of an hour I waited--as now I wait-- "For a light step on the stair, a girl's low laughter, Rustle of silks, shy knuckles tapping the oak, Dinner and mirth upsetting my rooms, and, after, Music, waltz upon waltz, till the June day broke. "Where is her laughter now? Old tarnished covers-- You that reflect her with fresh young face unchanged-- Tell that we met, that we parted, not as lovers: Time, chance, brought us together, and these estranged. "Loyal we were to the mood of the moment granted, Bruised not its bloom, but danced on the wave of its joy; Passion, wisdom, fell back like a wall enchanted Ringing a floor for us both--Heaven for the boy! "Where is she now? Regretted not, though departed, Blessings attend and follow her all her days! --Look to your hound: he dreams of the hares he started, Whines, and awakes, and stretches his limbs to the blaze. "Far old friend in the manse, by the grey ash peeling Flake by flake from the heat in the Yule log's core, Look past the woman you love--On wall and ceiling Climbs not a trellis of roses--and ghosts--o' yore? "Thoughts, thoughts! Whistle them back like hounds returning-- Mark how her needles pause at a sound upstairs. Time for bed, and to leave the log's heart burning! Give ye good-night, but first thank God in your prayers!"