Some, fingering the leaves of memory's book, Linger at one especial page to look -- Thus visioning again in fancy's way The vanished gladness of a by-gone day -- Living once more a happy hour, that cheers The dreary routine of life's emptier years. To find just one such page, I do not need. But opening my book haphazard -- read In every chapter, records of dear days Set with white mile-stones all along their ways -- Because, Dear Heart, the whole thick volume through, Began, continued, ended -- all with You! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MASTER-PLAYER by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR BOUND NO'TH BLUES by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES THE GROVES OF BLARNEY by RICHARD ALFRED MILLIKIN TO HELEN (1) by EDGAR ALLAN POE ENGLAND AND AMERICA IN 1782 by ALFRED TENNYSON CHINA 1937 by LAURA FRANCES ALEXANDER PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 72, 73, 74, 75. AWWAL, AKHIR, THAHIR, BATIN by EDWIN ARNOLD |