Poems (Chitwood)/A Dream of the Past

by Mary Louisa Chitwood

A DREAM OF THE PAST.

Oh! I have been roaming, this dear April day,
To the years that so sweetly have faded away,
To the joy and the light and the music-tuned flow
That were ever about me a long time ago.
I am back, I am back to my home by the stream;
'Tis surely no fancy, 'tis surely no dream;
But I stand 'neath the jasmine that climbs o'er the door,
And Nellie is with me, dear Nellie, once more.

We'll away to the sunlight of that quiet mead,
Where the clover-buds open their sweet lips of red;
To the woodlands so green, where the bright waters creep,
And in cradles of lilies the bees rock to sleep.

So Nellie, sweet Nellie, ere yon fleecy cloud
Links hands with the sister that near it is bowed,
We'll away, in our gladness, with laughing and song,
And the hours shall fly swiftly as young birds along.

'Tis faded, all faded,—the picture so bright,
It hath gone like a star from the bosom of night;
That home by the rill is away, far away;
There are others beneath the sweet jasmine, to-day.

The meadow, the woodland, the dell, and the flowers,
The birds, and the trees, and the musical hours,
Of that sweet long ago arc all faded away,
Like the iris, too lovely. too lovely to stay.

But not for the birds and the blossoms I weep,
Bunt Nellie, sweet Nellie, she, too, is asleep;
On her fair cheek of rose the dark lashes press down,
And the golden-hued locks have the dust for a crown,

And the white waxen hands that oft pressed me of yore,
Will throb to the thrill of a pulse never more.
Oh!not for the birds and the blossoms I weep;
I am sobbing for Nellie, she, too, is asleep.