Page:Poems of Sentiment and Imagination.djvu/258

254 I see them with their still and reverent faces,
 * Come out to watch the earth in its fair sleep—

And bless them, smiling in their shining places,
 * For the calm guard that pleasantly they keep.

We used to sit and watch the shining heaven,
 * While locust-blossoms tossed upon the breeze—

We used to muse upon the "Pleiad seven,"
 * And whisper thrilling words on nights like these!

The stars are here; the sounds to which I listen
 * Are those that used to be to us so dear—

The roses sigh—the wet leaves wave and glisten—
 * All have come back!—but thou—thou art not here!

Out upon these flowing lines,
 * And these words of dainty fashion,

When my chained heart pants and pines.
 * And my soul consumes with passion!

Shall I make a low complaint,
 * In words soft as flowers shutting?

Sure my madness is not faint,
 * And my thoughts like knives are cutting!

Oh ! my grief is nothing kind—
 * Nothing pitiful or tender,

To be moved from out my mind
 * By the evening's solemn splendor!

In the restlessness of fear
 * I can see but phantoms only,

And I cry out sharp and clear,
 * I am lonely—I am lonely!"