Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, YEARS AGO, by ALLAN S. LAING


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

YEARS AGO, by                    
First Line: Sitting alone and silent, by the light of the dying fire
Last Line: And shall love -- my darling and I -- as we loved long years ago.
Subject(s): Love; Memory


SITTING alone and silent, by the light of the dying fire,
Watching the embers deepen to caves of glowing red,
Sweet Memory gently touches the chords of her hidden lyre,
And murmurs a mystic music of voices long hush'd and dead;
And faces crowd around me, and spirit hands touch mine,
While the flush of an olden love stirs into a sudden glow
The smouldering fires of my spirit, as the heart is warm'd with wine,
And I see the sweet face of my darling who loved me years ago.

Ah! we were young and happy, and life was a paradise, [bloom,
With the tree of knowledge untouch'd, the fruits in their pristine
And we each loved each, and walk'd in the light of each other's eyes,
As if all the world were lovely, and death were an unknown doom;
And when, with the joining of hands, our lives merg'd into one,
The voices of sin and sorrow for us were hush'd and low, [sun,
And we stood on our new home's threshold, and, watching the setting
Saw new joys dawning for us in that bright time years ago.

Years came, and greeting us, pass'd with their burthen of joy and
Into the realm of silence, as the sun dips into the sea, [hope
And as he from his couch in the ocean climbs up the shining slope,
So brightly the new years dawn'd with promise of joy to be.
The music of childish prattle, and patter of baby feet,
Mingle themselves with the murmur of voices that come and go,
And the golden hair of the children, their bright eyes, blue and sweet,
Sun my old eyes and bless me, as they bless'd me years ago.

One dear face ever present, bright halo-crown'd with love --
One dear voice like sweet music, filling my soul with peace --
Voices and visions only! but precious as heaven above
To the heart of an old man, weary of sorrows that seldom cease.
Long on my head have fallen the white rose-leaves of time,
And I wait but the voice of the angel of God to bid me go,
Where hand in hand we shall walk, as in our olden prime,
And shall love -- my darling and I -- as we loved long years ago.





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