Let them go by-the heats, the doubts, the strife; I can sit here and care not for them now, Dreaming beside the glimmering wave of life Once more,-I know not how. There is a murmur in my heart, I hear Faint, O so faint, some air I used to sing; It stirs my sense; and odours dim and dear The meadow-breezes bring. Just this way did the quiet twilights fade Over the fields and happy homes of men, While one bird sang as now, piercing the shade, Long since,-I know not when. |