Vi

In after years shall he remember how Dawn had no breeze sweet as her murmured name? And day no sunlight that availed the same As her bright smile or beauty of her brow? Nor had the conscious twilight's golds and grays Her soul's allurement, that was free from blame,-- Nor dusk's advances, soft with starry flame, More young bewitchment than her own sweet ways.-- Then as the night with moonlight and perfume, And dew and darkness, qualifies the whole Dim world with glamour, shall the past with dreams-- That were the love-theme of their lives--illume The present with remembered hours, with gleams, Long lost to him, that bring them soul to soul?