Page:A Century of Roundels.djvu/24

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Years upon years, and the flame of love's high altar Trembles and sinks, and the sense of listening ears Heeds not the sound that it heard of love's blithe psalter Years upon years.

Only the sense of a heart that hearkens hears, Louder than dreams that assail and doubts that palter, Sorrow that slept and that wakes ere sundawn peers.

Wakes, that the heart may behold, and yet not falter, Faces of children as stars unknown of, spheres Seen but of love, that endures though all things alter, Years upon years.