Page:Cheskian Anthology.pdf/128



sweet, sad scenes! so dark, so dear,

So lovely once—so hateful now—

O why, while wandering, wandering here,

Do grief and gloom my spirits bow?

o'er that narrow way,

Where erst I tripp'd so lightly on;

My lover's steed was wont to stray,

In these green fields—but he is gone.

what intensity of bliss,

I hail'd the smiling earth and sky;

Scenes! that were then all blessedness,

Why turn'd to desolation? why?

flowers have droop'd—the light is fled;

The fruit hath fallen from the tree;

The wreath I wrought to bind his head,

The stream hath wafted to the sea.