We Walked among the Whispering Pines

It was a still autumnal day—   So sadly still and strangely bright— The hectic glow of quick decay   Tinged everything with lovely light. It warmly touched the fragrant air   And fields of corn and crumbling vines Along the golden Yadkin, where   We walked among the whispering pines Alas, that tender hectic glow   Shone in her gentle, pallid face, And none save God in heaven could know   My agony to see its trace— To watch those fatal roses bloom   Upon her cheeks—red, cruel signs— But all of love, not of the tomb,   We spoke among the whispering pines. Ah, fatal roses—never yet   Have they deceived. She drooped and died. We parted and we never met   Again; but often at my side An angel walks,—her step I know,—   A viewless arm my neck entwines. O angel love, so years ago   We walked among the whispering pines.