Page:The Garden of Years.djvu/37



And yet, had I but known what was to be,

The stillness sweet had been more sweetly still,

The laughter-laden singing of the sea,

That hallowed life and pledged eternity,

I should not then have understood so ill.

And, seeing how the west-wind worked its will

Upon the cloud, I should have known how you

Would one day in a myriad roses spill

My life, and give me faith and hope, in lieu

Of the black heart that you plucked out from me.

O my one love, so frail, so fair, so pure,

Had I but seen you faintly and afar,

My fluctuating faith had pointed sure

As swings the needle—slave, while worlds endure,

To the mute bidding of the northern star—

And many things had never been that are!

Had I but known what Life would bring to-day,

How had the years sung by, with naught to mar

That sweet crescendo, to our fairy-play

Hope’s eloquent, enchanted overture!