THE VILLAGE STREETIn these rapid, restless shadows,Once I walked at eventide,When a gentle, silent maiden,Wal ked in beauty at my sideShe alone there walked beside meAll in beauty, like a bride.Pallidly the moon was shiningOn the dewy meadows nigh;On the silvery, silent rivers,On the mountains far and highOn the ocean’s star-lit waters,Where the winds a-weary die.Slowly, silently we wanderedFrom the open cottage door,Underneath the elm’s long branchesTo the pavement bending o’er;Underneath the mossy willowAnd the dying sycamore.With the myriad stars in beautyAll bedight, the heavens were seen,Radiant hopes were bright around me,Like the light of stars serene;Like the mellow midnight splendorOf the Night’s irradiate queen.Audibly the elm-leaves whisperedPeaceful, pleasant melodies,Like the distant murmured musicOf unquiet, lovely seas:While the winds were hushed in slumberIn the fragrant flowers and trees.Wondrous and unwonted beautyStill adorning all did seem,While I told my love in fables‘Neath the willows by the stream;Would the heart have kept unspokenLove that was its rarest dream!Instantly away we wanderedIn the shadowy twilight tide,She, the silent, scornful maiden,Walking calmly at my side,With a step serene and stately,All in beauty, all in pride.Vacantly I walked beside her.On the earth mine eyes were cast;Swift and keen there came unto meRitter memories of the pastOn me, like the rain in AutumnOn the dead leaves, cold and fast.Underneath the elms we parted,By the lowly cottage door;One brief word alone was utteredNever on our lips before;And away I walked forlornly,Broken-hearted evermore.Slowly, silently I loitered,Homeward, in the night, alone;Sudden anguish bound my spirit,That my youth had never known;Wild unrest, like that which comethWhen the Night’s first dream hath flown.Now, to me the elm-leaves whisperMad, discordant melodies,And keen melodies like shadowsHaunt the moaning willow trees,And the sycamores with laughterMock me in the nightly breeze.Sad and pale the Autumn moonlightThrough the sighing foliage streams;And each morning, midnight shadow,Shadow of my sorrow seems;Strive, 0 heart, forget thine idol!And, 0 soul, forget thy dreams!
In these rapid, restless shadows,Once I walked at eventide,When a gentle, silent maiden,Wal ked in beauty at my sideShe alone there walked beside meAll in beauty, like a bride.Pallidly the moon was shiningOn the dewy meadows nigh;On the silvery, silent rivers,On the mountains far and highOn the ocean’s star-lit waters,Where the winds a-weary die.Slowly, silently we wanderedFrom the open cottage door,Underneath the elm’s long branchesTo the pavement bending o’er;Underneath the mossy willowAnd the dying sycamore.With the myriad stars in beautyAll bedight, the heavens were seen,Radiant hopes were bright around me,Like the light of stars serene;Like the mellow midnight splendorOf the Night’s irradiate queen.Audibly the elm-leaves whisperedPeaceful, pleasant melodies,Like the distant murmured musicOf unquiet, lovely seas:While the winds were hushed in slumberIn the fragrant flowers and trees.Wondrous and unwonted beautyStill adorning all did seem,While I told my love in fables‘Neath the willows by the stream;Would the heart have kept unspokenLove that was its rarest dream!Instantly away we wanderedIn the shadowy twilight tide,She, the silent, scornful maiden,Walking calmly at my side,With a step serene and stately,All in beauty, all in pride.Vacantly I walked beside her.On the earth mine eyes were cast;Swift and keen there came unto meRitter memories of the pastOn me, like the rain in AutumnOn the dead leaves, cold and fast.Underneath the elms we parted,By the lowly cottage door;One brief word alone was utteredNever on our lips before;And away I walked forlornly,Broken-hearted evermore.Slowly, silently I loitered,Homeward, in the night, alone;Sudden anguish bound my spirit,That my youth had never known;Wild unrest, like that which comethWhen the Night’s first dream hath flown.Now, to me the elm-leaves whisperMad, discordant melodies,And keen melodies like shadowsHaunt the moaning willow trees,And the sycamores with laughterMock me in the nightly breeze.Sad and pale the Autumn moonlightThrough the sighing foliage streams;And each morning, midnight shadow,Shadow of my sorrow seems;Strive, 0 heart, forget thine idol!And, 0 soul, forget thy dreams!