Page:All quiet along the Potomac and other poems.djvu/78

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"So never mind the daisies That on the hillside die To give me room, or rather Give room for what was 'I.'

"I'll watch the crowd incoming, Close hov'ring by the gate; And there, O best beloved! I'll sing, and praise, and wait."





OW do they come? With turbulent singing, Joy-bells gayly ringing, Clear bugle-note calling, Sweet flower-rain falling, And throbs of the drum?

When almanacs reckon, And tell us, the morrow Shall know not a sorrow, That jollity reigning Shall silence complaining, And come when we beckon,

What then? Cometh gladness? Nay&mdash;through rosy robing Comes Memory probing, 