Page:Impressions- A Book of Verse.djvu/25

 A SHORT SEPARATION: HE

H summer, with this night you crown the year! The golden moon her richest treasure flings O'er fragrant grassy slopes,—the cricket sings With cheery tinkle, yet my listening ear Finds tender sorrow in its cadence clear,— Past the warm meadows bathed in misty light, I seek the woodland path where yesternight We wandered arm in arm.—Now I am here Alone:—The whippoorwill sings from the bough Not, "Whippoorwill" he sings, but "Where art thou? " My grieving heart but echoes back his strain, Throbbing this perfect night with new-born pain, For all this loveliness I fain would share, Whispers my dreaming heart "Where is she, where?"