Page:All quiet along the Potomac and other poems.djvu/259

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For the sunny time touching now and then Holds within a lover-guest.

So they faintly call from the August edge

Of summer to say, "Good-bye," But she never misses the singing band

That fades in the southern sky ;

For the happy time that was strangely short

Twixt coming and going wings Had its own fair idyl rhymed and set,

And this, little Ruthie sings.

" See ! the birds are here !" "Lo ! the birds have gone!"

Ah ! in all your lifetime, dear, They will never sing, never once again,

As they sang, little Ruth, this year.


WHO knows when the last letter comes How tender and touching a sorrow May hang o er the commonplace words The postman shall bring with the morrow !

A little white fluttering fold,

It tells not its terrible story ; Nor whispers neath ripples of speech

Its place in the doorway of glory. 22

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