At the Bars of Memory and Other Poems/At the Bars of Memory
AT THE BARS OF MEMORY
By Andrew Francis Lockhart
I love the daytime's beauties, an' its far-flung, smilin' skies,
An' all those other glories that are seen through mortal eyes:
But the evenin' with its solemn hush an' myriad glintin' stars
Just seems to bring me like the kine right up to memory's bars;
An' I live the old joys over, an' the tears o'long ago,
When I claimed the wealth o' life's rewards o' mirth an' youth
and woe,
An' across the mists o' fleetin' years from days that used to be,
I can catch the lilt o' low-sung songs my mother sang to me.
An' once again a truant from the humble little school,
I go splashin' in the waters of the Fair Grounds swimmin' pool;
An' old Tub an Jack an' Toop an' all the members of the clique
Are grinnin' at me where the vines are gnarled an' black an'
thick;
An' once more I follow fancies of a youngster free from care.
An' I'm diggin' caves an' dugouts; catchin' gophers, with a
snare;
An' once more I am playin' "show," with a face all greasy black
To a crowd o' sunburned urchins in a tent o' gunny sack.
An' in the sweep o' fancy 'cross the spaces of the past,
I view the golden harvest of the grains my hands have cast;
An' the old familiar campus I knew just a while ago
Calls me back to shady spots where friendly trees are bendin'
low,
An' all the same old fellows pass along the same old ways
I used to love to follow in those other radiant days;
An' I pause in retrospection to gaze through crowdin' tears
At the haunts an' scenes that glorified the dreams o' yester
years.
An' through the gatherin' mists my truant, fancies once more
trace
The loveliness an' virtue of a sweet girl's hauntin' face,
An' across the span o' whit'nin' years between the Then an' Now
I press a tender kiss upon my sweetheart's yieldin' brow,
An' once again we wander in the twilight's purplin' haze,
An' I dream the old dreams over as we did in other days.
Dear girl, the stars o ' countless nights have watch'd o'er you
asleep,
While I have walk'd the lonely road 'mongst shadows dark an'
deep.
Oh, I love the daytime's beauties; its far-flung, smilin' skies,
An' all those other glories that are seen through mortal eyes;
But the evenin' with its solemn hush an' myriad glintin' stars
Just seems to bring me like the kine right up to memory's bars;
An' across the spreadin' spaces with their sacred scenes an' plots
I catch the deathless fragrance o' Time's blue forget-me-nots;
An' in my achin' heart o ' hearts I thank God for the night,
E'en though my dreams must vanish with the mornln's streakin'
light!