192
A WORD AT PARTING.
But for thy gracious reverence of thought,
And grave eyes tender smiling, and the sweet
Serene low voice with kindliness replete,
Which good from evil evermore hath brought,—
And grave eyes tender smiling, and the sweet
Serene low voice with kindliness replete,
Which good from evil evermore hath brought,—
For pleasant neighborhood, and friendly face,
The memory of thy presence still shall be
A picture full of richer tints to me
Than any limned by summer's passing grace.
The memory of thy presence still shall be
A picture full of richer tints to me
Than any limned by summer's passing grace.
And life may be with better things in tune,—
With happier dreams to make a sad hour bright
With some new pulse of freshness and delight,
Perchance,—because I saw thee first in June.
With happier dreams to make a sad hour bright
With some new pulse of freshness and delight,
Perchance,—because I saw thee first in June.
