Page:New poems and variant readings, Stevenson, 1918.djvu/139

Rh II.

III.

I have a hoard of treasure in my breast;

The grange of memory steams against the door,

Full of my bygone lifetime's garnered store—

Old pleasures crowned with sorrow for a zest,

Old sorrow grown a joy, old penance blest,

Chastened remembrance of the sins of yore

That, like a new evangel, more and more

Supports our halting will toward the best.

Ah! what to us the barren after years