The Barrier
Last night I dreamed I stood once more
Beneath our garden wall.
I saw the willows bending grey,
The poplar springing tall.
O paths where oft 1 plucked the rose,
O steeple in the sky,
O Common swelling darkly green.
How glad at heart was I!
My hand I raised to lift the latch.
But lo, the gate was gone!
And all around, ay, all around
There ran a wall of stone . . .
O years when oft we plucked the rose,
When oft we laughed and cried!
Thou hast no gate, O Youth, our Youth,
When once we stand outside!
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