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قراءة كتاب An Old Sweetheart of Mine
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اللغة: English
الصفحة رقم: 2
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The ordered intermingling
of the real and the dream,—
The mill above the river,
and the mist above the stream;
The life of ceaseless labor,
brave with song and cheery call—
The radiant skies of evening,
with its rainbow o'er us all.
of the real and the dream,—
The mill above the river,
and the mist above the stream;
The life of ceaseless labor,
brave with song and cheery call—
The radiant skies of evening,
with its rainbow o'er us all.
An Old Sweetheart of Mine!—Is this
her presence here with me,
Or but a vain creation of
a lover's memory?
her presence here with me,
Or but a vain creation of
a lover's memory?
A fair, illusive vision
that would vanish into air
Dared I even touch the silence
with the whisper of a prayer?
that would vanish into air
Dared I even touch the silence
with the whisper of a prayer?
Nay, let me then believe in all
the blended false and true—
The semblance of the old love
and the substance of the new,—
the blended false and true—
The semblance of the old love
and the substance of the new,—
The then of changeless sunny days—
the now of shower and shine—
But Love forever smiling,—
as that old sweetheart of mine.
the now of shower and shine—
But Love forever smiling,—
as that old sweetheart of mine.
This ever-restful sense of home,
though shouts ring in the hall.—
The easy-chair—the old bookshelves
and prints along the wall;
though shouts ring in the hall.—
The easy-chair—the old bookshelves
and prints along the wall;
The rare Habanas in their box,
or gaunt churchwarden-stem
That often wags, above the jar,
derisively at them.
or gaunt churchwarden-stem
That often wags, above the jar,
derisively at them.
As one who cons at evening
o'er an album, all alone,
And muses on the faces
of the friends that he has known,
o'er an album, all alone,
And muses on the faces
of the friends that he has known,
So I turn the leaves of Fancy,
till, in shadowy design,
I find the smiling features of
an old sweetheart of mine.
till, in shadowy design,
I find the smiling features of
an old sweetheart of mine.
The lamplight seems to glimmer
with a flicker of surprise,
As I turn it low—to rest me
of the dazzle in my eyes,
with a flicker of surprise,
As I turn it low—to rest me
of the dazzle in my eyes,
And light my pipe in silence,
save a sigh that seems to yoke
Its
save a sigh that seems to yoke
Its