Go stand on the rivulet's lily-fringed side, Or list where the rivers rush by; The streamlets which forest trees shadow and hide, And the rivers that roll in their oceanward tide, Are moaning forever wherever they glide; Ask them what ails them: they will not reply. On -- sad voiced -- they flow, but they never tell why. Why does your poetry sound like a sigh? Earth's streams will not answer you; neither shall I. Go list to the voices of air, earth and sea, And the voices that sound in the sky; Their songs may be joyful to some, but to me There's a sigh in each chord and a sigh in each key, And thousands of sighs swell their grand melody. Ask them what ails them: they will not reply. They sigh -- sigh forever -- but never tell why. Why does your poetry sound like a sigh? Their lips will not answer you; neither shall I. A Memory One bright memory shines like a star In the sky of my spirit forever; And over my pathway it flashes afar A radiance that perishes never. One bright memory -- only one; And I walk by the light of its gleaming; It brightens my days, and when days are done It shines in the night o'er my dreaming. One bright memory, whose golden rays Illumine the gloom of my sorrows, And I know that its lustre will gladden my gaze In the shadows of all my to-morrows. One bright memory; when I am sad I lift up my eyes to its shining, And the clouds pass away, and my spirit grows glad, And my heart hushes all its repining. One bright memory; others have passed Back into the shadows forever; But it, far and fair, bright and true to the last, Sheds a light that will pass away never. Shine on, shine always, thou star of my days! And when Death's starless night gathers o'er me, Beam brighter than ever adown on my gaze, And light the dark valley before me. Rhyme One idle day -- A mile or so of sunlit waves off shore -- In a breezeless bay, We listless lay -- Our boat a "dream of rest" on the still sea -- And -- we were four. The wind had died That all day long sang songs unto the deep; It was eventide, And far and wide Sweet silence crept thro' the rifts of sound With spells of sleep. Our gray sail cast The only cloud that flecked the foamless sea; And weary at last Beside the mast One fell to slumber with a dreamy face, And -- we were three. No ebb! no flow! No sound! no stir in the wide, wondrous calm; In the sunset's glow The shore shelved low And snow-white, from far ridges screened with shade Of drooping palm. Our hearts were hushed; All light seemed melting into boundless blue; But the west was flushed Where sunset blushed, Thro' clouds of roses, when another slept And -- we were two. How still the air! Not e'en a sea-bird o'er us waveward flew; Peace rested there! Light everywhere! Nay! Light! some shadows fell on that fair scene, And -- we are two.