the ghosts of flowers went sailing
Through the dreamy autumn air,—
The gossamer wings of the milkweed brown,
And the sheeny silk of the thistle-down;
But there was no bewailing,
And never a hint of despair.
From the mountain-ash was swinging
A gray, deserted nest;
Scarlet berries where eggs had been;...
The fields were silent, and the woodland drear,
The moon had set, and clouds hid all the stars;
And blindly, when a footfall met my ear,
I reached across the bars.
And swift as thought this hand was clasped in thine,
Though darkness hung around us and above;
Not guided by uncertain fate to mine,
But by the law of love....
In shining groups, each stem a pearly ray,
Weird flecks of light within the shadowed wood,
They dwell aloof, a spotless sisterhood.
No Angelus, except the wild bird’s lay,
Awakes these forest nuns; yet night and day
Their heads are bent, as if in prayerful mood.
A touch will mar their snow, and tempests rude
Defile; but in the mist fresh...
We wondered why he always turned aside
When mirth and gladness filled the brimming days:
Who else so fit as he for pleasure’s ways?
Men thought him frozen by a selfish pride;
But that his voice was music none denied,
Or that his smile was like the sun’s warm rays.
One day upon the sands he spoke in praise
Of swimmers who were buffeting...
