Ballad of the Faded Field

Broad bars of sunset-slanted gold Are laid along the field, and here The silence sings, as if some old Refrain, that once rang long and clear, Came softly, stealing to the ear Without the aid of sound. The rill Is voiceless, and the grass is sere, But beauty’s soul abideth still. Trance-like, the mellow air doth hold The sorrow of the passing year; The heart of Nature groweth cold, The time of falling snow is near; On phantom feet, which none may hear, Creeps—with the shadow of the hill— The semblance of departed cheer, But beauty’s soul abideth still. The dead, gray-clustered weeds enfold The well-known summer path, and drear The dusking hills, like billows rolled Against the distant sky, appear. From lonely haunts, where Night and Fear Keep ghostly tryst, when mists are chill, The dark pine lifts a jaggëd spear, But beauty’s soul abideth still. ENVOY Dear love, the days that once were dear May come no more; life may fulfill Her fleeting dreams with many a tear, But beauty’s soul abideth still.