Have you reached the country of all content,
0 souls we know, since the day you went
From this time-worn world, where your years were spent?
Would you come back to the sun and the rain,
The sweetness, the strife, the thing we call pain,
And then unravel life's tangle again?
I lean to the dark--Hush!--was it a sigh?
Or the painted vine-leaves that rustled by?
Or only a night-bird's echoing cry?
THE GLEANER
As children gather daisies down green ways
Mid butterflies and bees,
To-day across the meadows of past days
I gathered memories.
I stored my heart with harvest of lost hours--
With blossoms of spent years;
Leaves that had known the sun of joy, and hours
Drenched with the rain of tears.
And perfumes that were long ago distilled
From April's pink and white,
Again with all their old enchantment, filled
My spirit with delight.
From out the limbo where lost roses go
The place we may not see,
With all its petals sweet and half-ablow,
One rose returned to me.
Where falls the sunlight chequered by the shade
On meadows of the past,
I gathered blossoms that no sun can fade
No winter wind can blast.
THE ROVER
Though I follow a trail to north or south,
Though I travel east or west,
There's a little house on a quiet road
That my hidden heart loves best;
And when my journeys are over and done,
'Tis there I will go to rest.
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