Attempt > Volume 1 and Select writings

104
THE ATTEMPT
mm Wm*-
Underneath the swaying branches,
By the summer breezes fanned,
Smiling at thine own sweet fancies,
Dreaming of kingcups and pansies,
Which thy little hand
Will gather from the thymy dells,
When the sunset’s rosy light rests on their purple hells.
Long shall anxious eyes outlooking,
Watch for thee, when twilight deep
Gathers o’er the whispering woods,
And the moorland solitudes;
Or in silence weep
By the joy-forsaken hearth;
Vainly seek by woodpaths shady, emptied of thy mirth.
Lingering in the golden sunlight,
Did no shadow strange and cold
Fall upon thy happy heart,
Chilling it with sudden start,
By the tale it told,
Of all thy wayward wanderings o’er,
Ne’er to roam the wildwood with its thousand daisies more ?
Sadly shall thy little playmates
Think of thee, when the sweet spring,
With its tears and rainbow gleams,
Wakes the silver voice of streams,
And glad carolling
Of wild birds in leafy bowers,
While thy step in ferny dingles greets no more its flowers.
J. I. L.