Somewhere in the world there hide Garden-gates that no one sees Save they come in happy twos,— Not in one, nor yet in threes. But from every maiden’s door Leads a pathway straight and true; Map and survey know it not,— He who finds, finds room for two! Then they see the garden-gates! Never skies so blue as theirs, Never flowers so many-sweet, As for those who come in pairs. Round and round the alleys wind: Now a cradle bars the way, Now a little mound, behind,— So the two go through the day. When no nook in all the lanes But has heard a song or sigh, Lo! another garden-gate Opens as the two go by. In they wander, knowing not; “Five and twenty!” fills the air With a silvery echo low, All about the startled pair. Happier yet these garden-walks: Closer, heart to heart, they lean; Stiller, softer, falls the light; Few the twos, and far between. Till, at last, as on they pass Down the paths so well they know, Once again at hidden gates Stand the two: they enter slow. Golden Gates of “Fifty Years,” May our two your latchet press! Garden of the Sunset Land, Hold their dearest happiness! Then a quiet walk again: Then a wicket in the wall: Then one, stepping on alone,— Then two at the Heart of All!
In Twos
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