THE HOUSE OF CONTENT

Were once again the immortal moment mine How should I choose my path? The path I chose (How long ago I wonder if Time knows) Even now I see. I see the old sun shine Upon the moss, thick strewn with fir and pine; The open field; the orchard's even rows; The wood again; then, where the hills unclose, Far off at first, now near, the long-sought shrine. O Time, how impotent thou art! Though thou Hast taken me from all things, and all things From me,—although the wind of thy swift wings Hath swept at last the shadow from her brow Of my last kiss, yet do I triumph now Who, choosing, paused to hear Love's counsellings.