Page:Late lyrics and earlier, with many other verses (IA latelyricsearlie00hardiala).pdf/138

110 If, on lawns Elysian, With a broadened vision And a faint derision Conscious be they, How they might reprove me That these fancies move me, Think they ill behoove me, Smile, and say:

"What!—our hoar old houses, Where the past dead-drowses, Nor a child nor spouse is Of our name at all? Such abodes to care for, Inquire about and bear for, And suffer wear and tear form— How weak of you and small!"

May 1921.