Two little souls, a boy and a girl,
Wandering on to the foot of the hill.
Bushes of green and blossoms of pearl
Laugh at themselves in the roadside rill.
Crossing the lane a gorgeous jay,
Bathed in the light of a fluttering ray,
Jauntily chatters, "Some day, some day!"
Two sweet souls, a man and a maid
(Beechen branches twisted above),
Picking the daisies which sprinkle a glade,
And trying their luck at a game of love:
"This year!" "Next year!" What do they say?
And out of the beeches the curious jay
Peeps and chuckles, "Some day, some day!"
Two old souls, and the end of the day
Follows them home to the foot of the hill;
One late gleam which has wandered astray
Breaks from a copse and dimples the rill.
Autumn leaves are strewing the way,
And hoarse from the larch the hungry jay
Shouts out to the night, "Some day, some day!"
Two poor souls in the dead of the night,
Side by side, lie stiffened and still;
And the winter’s moon just softens her light,
As it solemnly rests at the foot of the hill.
Remembering the bees and the buds and the May,
The summer gold and the autumn gray,
And the warm green lane where the beetles play,
In the crisp cold night the shivering jay
Croaks out of his dream, "Some day, some day!"
