Page:Poems PiattVol2.djvu/111

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.


THE FLIGHT OF THE CHILDREN.
They fade to fairies, fade and pass
Into the dimness of the dew,
Into the greenness of the grass,
Among the blossoms glad and new;
They wander off into the wind,
And leave me, dreaming, far behind.

Then some great greyness round me steals;
My hollow hands I faintly fold;
The awful touch of blindness seals
My glimmering eyes, and I am old—
So old I care not for my years,
So old that I have done with tears.

. . . Soon little faces, flushed and fair,
As other faces used to be,
Climb, full of wonder, up my chair,
And whisper, while they look at me;—

99