Then And Now

Beneath her window in the fragrant night I half forget how truant years have

Since I looked up to see her chamber-light,

Or catch, perchance, her slender shadow

Upon the casement; but the nodding leaves Sweep lazily across the unlit pane,

And to and fro beneath the shadowy eaves,

Like restless birds, the breath of coming

Creeps, lilac-laden, up the village street When all is still, as if the very

Were listening for the coming of her feet That come no more; yet, lest I weep, the

Sings some forgotten song of those old

Until my heart grows far too glad for tears.