Page:In memoriam (IA inmemoriam00tennrich).pdf/204



, where my heart was used to beat So quickly, not as one that weeps I come once more; the city sleeps; I smell the meadow in the street;

I hear a chirp of birds; I see Betwixt the black fronts long-withdrawn A light-blue lane of early dawn, And think of early days and thee,

And bless thee, for thy lips are bland And bright the friendship of thine eye; And in my thoughts with scarce a sigh I take the pressure of thine hand.