HER STREET.(IN ABSENCE.)I PASSED your street of many memories.A sunset, sombre pink, the flushOf inner rose-leaves idle fingers crush,Died softly, as the rose that dies.All the high heaven behind the roof lay thus,Tenderly dying, touched with painA little; standing there I saw againThe sunsets that were dear to us.I knew not if ’twere bitter or more sweetTo stand and watch the roofs, the sky.O bitter to be there and you not nigh,Yet this had been that blessed street.How the name thrilled me, there upon the wall!There was the house, the windows thereAgainst the rosy twilight high and bare,The pavement-stones: I knew them all!Days that have been, days that have fallen cold!I stood and gazed, and thought of you,Until remembrance sweet and mournful drewTears to eyes smiling as of old.So, sad and glad, your memory visiblyAlive within my eyes, I turned;And, through a window, met two eyes that burned,Tenderly questioning, on me.
(IN ABSENCE.)
I PASSED your street of many memories.A sunset, sombre pink, the flushOf inner rose-leaves idle fingers crush,Died softly, as the rose that dies.All the high heaven behind the roof lay thus,Tenderly dying, touched with painA little; standing there I saw againThe sunsets that were dear to us.
I knew not if ’twere bitter or more sweetTo stand and watch the roofs, the sky.O bitter to be there and you not nigh,Yet this had been that blessed street.How the name thrilled me, there upon the wall!There was the house, the windows thereAgainst the rosy twilight high and bare,The pavement-stones: I knew them all!
Days that have been, days that have fallen cold!I stood and gazed, and thought of you,Until remembrance sweet and mournful drewTears to eyes smiling as of old.So, sad and glad, your memory visiblyAlive within my eyes, I turned;And, through a window, met two eyes that burned,Tenderly questioning, on me.