Page:Eight Harvard Poets.djvu/74

Love Dream The blue-gray ramparts of the storm Flashing with signal fires of death, Whilst with a murmur, far and wide, Swept in the low wind with the tide.

Then, at last, when lips were dumb With fear of parting, did we wend Along the meadow lanes that come From nowhere, and in nothing end, And, smiling, kiss, though ill at ease, Under the rustling orchard trees.

But will the promise given keep? Can the heart love still when 'tis dead? What if the spirit, waked from sleep, Never recall the words it said? Dwell in a dreamland, or else be Lost in life's eternity? 63