Page:Poems, now first collected, Stedman, 1897.djvu/51

SOUVENIR DE JEUNESSE And then we cared no more for aught save this one hour we had;

Upwelled that dreamful selfish tide of young Love's rapture, holding

The fair round world itself in pledge to make us still more glad.

For us the night was musical, for us the meadows shining;

The summer air was odorous that we might breathe and love;

Sweet Nature throbbed for us alone—her mother-soul divining

No fonder pair that fleeting hour her zephyrs sighed above.

Amid the nodding rushes the heron drank his tipple,

The night-hawk's cry and whir anigh a deeper stillness made,

A thousand little starlights danced upon the river's ripple,

And the silver poplar rustled as we kissed within its shade.

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