Page:Poems Rice.djvu/26

 In silence, pondering the coming years,
And this great loss that fills them all with gloom;
Then o'er the past our loving fancies yearn,
 And, clearly mirrored, every scene appears.

Again, dear friend, along a hill-side, sweet
 With ox-eyed daisies, while the sun goes down,
We tread, enraptured, toward the golden haze
 Whose molten glory fuses spire and town;
Or, hand in hand, we pace the crowded street,
As merry as the birds, that spend their days
 Singing to skies that know not how to frown.

For daily friendships, other souls, serene
 And fond, content us; but when wild with glee
Our thoughts are bounding, and the tides of life
 Flow on exultant,—where then may we see
In wit's gay tournament a lance so keen
To shiver ours, in quick, responsive play?
 Where seek the mood to mate our rhapsody?

And must we miss forever from the hearth
 That glad, low laugh, those bright impulsive ways,
And silvery accents, eager to impart
 Their spoken music, while before our gaze
Droop the soft lids that quiver with their mirth?
The earth is empty since that fervid heart
 Sleeps underneath it, silent while we praise.

The lightest griefs our summer hours have known
 She shared in pity, and our sorrows bore;
Now, billowy seas of agony may roll
 And her warm sympathy can cheer no more,
Feeling all woes as keenly as her own:
Throned in her breast there dwelt a royal soul,
 Kin to that empress whose proud name she wore.

Ye muffling snows of winter, still delay;
 Sharp be the air, and bright;that we may hear
The music of her own glad Christmas Bells,