Page:All quiet along the Potomac and other poems.djvu/200

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194 THE GARDEN-GATE.

Paints them ruddy with rust Till a footfall is death.

We build them of glory ; The quicksand, ashift,

Leaves the arches all sprung And the timbers adrift.

But, thanks be for ever !

One bridge is all ready ; It lies on the promises,

Anchored and steady : Tis the bridge of the Cross,

All ashine in the gloom, And the Lilies of Peace

On its farther side bloom.

��THE GARDEN-GATE.

LONG ago, in childish terror, From a fancied gnome I fled, Casting frightened glances backward, Longing looks toward home ahead ; Through the lane and by the willows,

Swift and sure as feet of fate, Never stayed I till behind me

Clanged and clasped the garden-gate.

Blessed gate of happy childhood, Barring harm and sorrow out,

�� �