TWO lovers by a moss-grown spring:
They leaned soft cheeks together there,
Mingled the dark and sunny hair,
And heard the wooing thrushes sing.
⁠⁠⁠O budding time!
⁠⁠⁠O love's blest prime!

Two wedded from the portal stept:
The bells made happy carollings,
The air was soft as fanning wings,
White petals on the pathway slept.
⁠⁠⁠O pure-eyed bride!
⁠⁠⁠O tender pride!

Two faces o'er a cradle bent:
Two hands above the head were locked:
These pressed each other while they rocked,
Those watched a life that love had sent.
⁠⁠⁠O solemn hour!
⁠⁠⁠O hidden power!

Two parents by the evening fire:
The red light fell about their knees
On heads that rose by slow degrees
Like buds upon the lily spire.
⁠⁠⁠O patient life!
⁠⁠⁠O tender strife!

"Two lovers by a moss-grown spring."

The two still sat together there,
The red light shone about their knees;
But all the heads by slow degrees
Had gone and left that lonely pair.
⁠⁠⁠O voyage fast!
⁠⁠⁠O vanished past!

The red light shone upon the floor
And made the space between them wide;
They drew their chairs up side by side,
Their pale cheeks joined, and said, "Once more!"
⁠⁠⁠O memories!
⁠⁠⁠O past that is!

1866.