Remembrance

Sweet are the wind's soft kisses on the brow ;
Sweet is the singing of the mated bird ;
Sweet is the scent of blossom on the bough ;
Sweet is a woman's singing voice When heard !

Happy recall of things remembered—
Life's happy hours, love's blooded ecstasy,
Youth's sanguine dreams whose tireless wings outsped
The light—now silhouettes of Memory!

E'en like a dawn whose flush outlives the day ;
E'en like a star that lives beyond the night ;
As maid's remembrance of her bridal-day :
Or as his cult to mystic acolyte—
So is the memory of these things to me
Here on the verge of death, eternity.