Page:Poems Denver.djvu/299

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
THY PORTRAIT.
I gaze upon it day by day,
Until my eyes are filled with tears,
To think that thou art far away,
Afar from all that life endears;
I, whose sad thoughts so often stray
To thee, the loved of other years.

The beautiful is round me still,
But it is beautiful no more;
The breeze floats gently o'er the hill,
As if old feelings to restore;
I hear it, but it fails to fill
My bosom with the thoughts of yore.

The days that pass since thou hast gone,
I count as nothing: unto me
They seem but scentless flowers thrown
Beneath my footsteps heedlessly;
'No voice with sad regretful tone,
Laments that such their death should be.