Years ago, when a summer sun Warmed the greenwood into life, I went wandering with one Soon to be my wife. Birds were mating, and Love began All the copses to infold; Our two souls together ran Melting in one mould. Skies were bluer than ever before: It was joy to love you then, And to know I loved you more Than could other men! Winds were fresh and your heart was brave, Sang to mine a sweet refrain, And for every pledge I gave Pledged me back again. How it happened I cannot tell, But there came a cursed hour, When some hidden shape of hell Crept within our bower. Sudden and sharply either spoke Bitter words of doubt and scorn; Pride the golden linklets broke,— Left us both forlorn. Seven long years have gone since then, And I suffered, but, at last, Rose and joined my fellow-men, Crushing down the past. Far away over distant hills, Now I know your life is led; Have you felt the rust that kills? Are your lilies dead? Summer and winter you have dwelt, Like a statue, cold and white; None, of all the crowd who knelt, Read your soul aright. O, I knew the tremulous swell Of its secret undertone! That diviner music fell On my ear alone! Ever in dreams we meet with tears: Lake and mountain—all are past: With the stifled love of seven long years Hold each other fast! Though the glamoury of the night Fades with morning far away, Oftentimes a strange delight Haunts the after-day. Even now, when the summer sun Warms the greenwood far within, Even now my fancies run On what might have been. SUMMER RAIN. Yestermorn the air was dry As the winds of Araby, While the sun, with pitiless heat, Glared upon the glaring street, And the meadow fountains sealed, Till the people everywhere, And the cattle in the field, And the birds in middle air, And the thirsty little flowers, Sent to heaven a fainting prayer For the blessed summer showers. Not in vain the prayer was said; For at sunset, overhead, Sailing from the gorgeous West, Came the pioneers, abreast, Of a wondrous argosy,— The Armada of the sky! Far along I saw them sail, Wafted by an upper gale; Saw them, on their lustrous route, Fling a thousand banners out: Yellow, violet, crimson, blue, Orange, sapphire,—every hue That the gates of Heaven put on, To the sainted eyes of John, In that hallowed Patmos isle Their skyey pennons wore; and while I drank the glory of the sight Sunset faded into night. Then diverging, far and wide, To the dim horizon’s side, Silently and swiftly there, Every galleon of the air, Manned by some celestial crew, Out its precious cargo threw, And the gentle summer rain Cooled the fevered Earth again.