A Remembered Tune

My hand strayed o'er the piano keys,
And it chanced on a song that you sang, my dear,
When we roamed through the country stillnesses,
Or stood by the sea, when the moon was clear,
In that other year.

I forget the words you were wont to sing;
But the tune was a sweet and a tender one,
And sad as the thought of youth and Spring
To him who dreams, in the fading sun,
That the sweet time 's done.

As I play, old hopes and old sorrows move.
Till it almost seems that your voice I hear.
And my spirit goes forth, to-day, to rove
Down the inland way where the sea was near,
In that other year.

As a bird that finds its nest.
When the winds are overstrong,
With quivering wings and panting breast,
Even so to-day this song
Which your dear lips used to sing,

From the days long left behind
Enters now, and folds its wing
In the still, remembering mind.