I heard the plaintive cawing of the rook,
The pleasant murmur of the rippling brook;
I heard the cuckoo's oft-repeated call
And bursts of childish laughter over all.
With eyes half closed, and empty idle hands
That plucked at grass and flowers aimlessly,
I watched the flickering shadow of the leaves
Waving like fans upon the chestnut-trees.
It mattered nothing to me, as I lay,
That Love was gone, and Hope had flown away,
That Life had lost its sweetness and its grace,—
I only felt the sunshine in my face.
A little child came softly to my side,
With buttercups and daisies in its hand;
Half shy, half bold, it dropped them on my breast—
An infant's scheme most innocently planned.
This done, it turned, and shouting gleefully,
With tiny hurrying feet fled hast;
I never heeded it, but lay at rest,
The sunshine and the flowers upon my breast.
I felt the sunshine in my very heart.
Was yesterday so clouded and so sad,
And would to-morrow be like this, or that?
What mattered it? And yet I was not glad.
I only knew the sun shone overhead;
I only knew that underneath was spread
4
