19ANNIVERSARYWhat is sweeter than new-mown hay,Fresher than winds o’er-sea that blow,Innocent above children’s play,Fairer and purer than winter snow,Frolic as are the morns of May?—If it should be what best I know!What is richer than thoughts that strayFrom reading of poems that smoothly flow?What is solemn like the delayOf concords linked in a music slowDying thro’ vaulted aisles away?—If it should be what best I know!What gives faith to me when I pray,Setteth my heart with joy aglow,Filleth my song with fancies gay,Maketh the heaven to which I go,The gladness of earth that lasteth for aye?—If it should be what best I know!But tell me thou—’twas on this dayThat first we loved five years ago—If ’tis a thing that I can say,Though it must be what best we know.
19ANNIVERSARYWhat is sweeter than new-mown hay,Fresher than winds o’er-sea that blow,Innocent above children’s play,Fairer and purer than winter snow,Frolic as are the morns of May?—If it should be what best I know!What is richer than thoughts that strayFrom reading of poems that smoothly flow?What is solemn like the delayOf concords linked in a music slowDying thro’ vaulted aisles away?—If it should be what best I know!What gives faith to me when I pray,Setteth my heart with joy aglow,Filleth my song with fancies gay,Maketh the heaven to which I go,The gladness of earth that lasteth for aye?—If it should be what best I know!But tell me thou—’twas on this dayThat first we loved five years ago—If ’tis a thing that I can say,Though it must be what best we know.
What is sweeter than new-mown hay,Fresher than winds o’er-sea that blow,Innocent above children’s play,Fairer and purer than winter snow,Frolic as are the morns of May?—If it should be what best I know!What is richer than thoughts that strayFrom reading of poems that smoothly flow?What is solemn like the delayOf concords linked in a music slowDying thro’ vaulted aisles away?—If it should be what best I know!What gives faith to me when I pray,Setteth my heart with joy aglow,Filleth my song with fancies gay,Maketh the heaven to which I go,The gladness of earth that lasteth for aye?—If it should be what best I know!But tell me thou—’twas on this dayThat first we loved five years ago—If ’tis a thing that I can say,Though it must be what best we know.
What is sweeter than new-mown hay,Fresher than winds o’er-sea that blow,Innocent above children’s play,Fairer and purer than winter snow,Frolic as are the morns of May?—If it should be what best I know!What is richer than thoughts that strayFrom reading of poems that smoothly flow?What is solemn like the delayOf concords linked in a music slowDying thro’ vaulted aisles away?—If it should be what best I know!What gives faith to me when I pray,Setteth my heart with joy aglow,Filleth my song with fancies gay,Maketh the heaven to which I go,The gladness of earth that lasteth for aye?—If it should be what best I know!But tell me thou—’twas on this dayThat first we loved five years ago—If ’tis a thing that I can say,Though it must be what best we know.
What is sweeter than new-mown hay,Fresher than winds o’er-sea that blow,Innocent above children’s play,Fairer and purer than winter snow,Frolic as are the morns of May?—If it should be what best I know!
What is sweeter than new-mown hay,
Fresher than winds o’er-sea that blow,
Innocent above children’s play,
Fairer and purer than winter snow,
Frolic as are the morns of May?
—If it should be what best I know!
What is richer than thoughts that strayFrom reading of poems that smoothly flow?What is solemn like the delayOf concords linked in a music slowDying thro’ vaulted aisles away?—If it should be what best I know!
What is richer than thoughts that stray
From reading of poems that smoothly flow?
What is solemn like the delay
Of concords linked in a music slow
Dying thro’ vaulted aisles away?
—If it should be what best I know!
What gives faith to me when I pray,Setteth my heart with joy aglow,Filleth my song with fancies gay,Maketh the heaven to which I go,The gladness of earth that lasteth for aye?—If it should be what best I know!
What gives faith to me when I pray,
Setteth my heart with joy aglow,
Filleth my song with fancies gay,
Maketh the heaven to which I go,
The gladness of earth that lasteth for aye?
—If it should be what best I know!
But tell me thou—’twas on this dayThat first we loved five years ago—If ’tis a thing that I can say,Though it must be what best we know.
But tell me thou—’twas on this day
That first we loved five years ago—
If ’tis a thing that I can say,
Though it must be what best we know.