THE OLD SCHOOL-CHUM
He puts the poem by, to sayHis eyes are not themselves to-day!A sudden glamour o’er his sight—A something vague, indefinite—An oft-recurring blur that blindsThe printed meaning of the lines,And leaves the mind all dusk and dimIn swimming darkness—strange to him!It is not childishness, I guess,—Yet something of the tendernessThat used to wet his lashes whenA boy seems troubling him again;—The old emotion, sweet and wild,That drove him truant when a child,That he might hide the tears that fellAbove the lesson—“Little Nell.”And so it is he puts asideThe poem he has vainly triedTo follow; and, as one who sighsIn failure, through a poor disguiseOf smiles, he dries his tears, to sayHis eyes are not themselves to-day.
He puts the poem by, to sayHis eyes are not themselves to-day!A sudden glamour o’er his sight—A something vague, indefinite—An oft-recurring blur that blindsThe printed meaning of the lines,And leaves the mind all dusk and dimIn swimming darkness—strange to him!It is not childishness, I guess,—Yet something of the tendernessThat used to wet his lashes whenA boy seems troubling him again;—The old emotion, sweet and wild,That drove him truant when a child,That he might hide the tears that fellAbove the lesson—“Little Nell.”And so it is he puts asideThe poem he has vainly triedTo follow; and, as one who sighsIn failure, through a poor disguiseOf smiles, he dries his tears, to sayHis eyes are not themselves to-day.
He puts the poem by, to sayHis eyes are not themselves to-day!
He puts the poem by, to say
His eyes are not themselves to-day!
A sudden glamour o’er his sight—A something vague, indefinite—
A sudden glamour o’er his sight—
A something vague, indefinite—
An oft-recurring blur that blindsThe printed meaning of the lines,
An oft-recurring blur that blinds
The printed meaning of the lines,
And leaves the mind all dusk and dimIn swimming darkness—strange to him!
And leaves the mind all dusk and dim
In swimming darkness—strange to him!
It is not childishness, I guess,—Yet something of the tenderness
It is not childishness, I guess,—
Yet something of the tenderness
That used to wet his lashes whenA boy seems troubling him again;—
That used to wet his lashes when
A boy seems troubling him again;—
The old emotion, sweet and wild,That drove him truant when a child,
The old emotion, sweet and wild,
That drove him truant when a child,
That he might hide the tears that fellAbove the lesson—“Little Nell.”
That he might hide the tears that fell
Above the lesson—“Little Nell.”
And so it is he puts asideThe poem he has vainly tried
And so it is he puts aside
The poem he has vainly tried
To follow; and, as one who sighsIn failure, through a poor disguise
To follow; and, as one who sighs
In failure, through a poor disguise
Of smiles, he dries his tears, to sayHis eyes are not themselves to-day.
Of smiles, he dries his tears, to say
His eyes are not themselves to-day.