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Littell's Living Age/Volume 127/Issue 1639/In the Lane


The daisies star the summer grass;
And, with the dancing leaves at play,
Adown this lane the breezes pass,
In pleasant music, all the day.

I love the sweet, sequestered place,
The gracious roof of gold and green.
Where arching branches interlace,
With glimpses of the sky between.

I see the drooping roses trail
From tangled hedgerows to the ground;
I hear the chanting swell and fail.
Of fond love-lyrics, all around.

And here, adown the shady walk.
In days divine now passed away.
Entranced, I listed to the talk.
That ever held my heart in sway.

In days when birds began to sing,
Because they found the earth was fair;
In halcyon days of happy spring,
None aught but us our joys to share.

But pleasure past is present pain;
The petals of the rose are shed;
The piercing thorns alone remain;
I live to sorrow for the dead.

Chambers' Journal.