Page:Flint and Feather (1914).djvu/111



What of the days when we two dreamed together? Days marvellously fair, As lightsome as a skyward floating feather Sailing on summer air— Summer, summer, that came drifting through Fate's hand to me, to you.

What of the days, my dear? I sometimes wonder If you too wish this sky Could be the blue we sailed so softly under, In that sun-kissed July; Sailed in the warm and yellow afternoon, With hearts in touch and tune.

Have you no longing to re-live the dreaming, Adrift in my canoe? To watch my paddle blade all wet and gleaming Cleaving the waters through? To lie wind-blown and wave-caressed, until Your restless pulse grows still?

Do you not long to listen to the purling Of foam athwart the keel? To hear the nearing rapids softly swirling Among their stones, to feel