Poems (Kennedy)/The Lost Land
THE LOST LAND
I HEARD them once—the blue birds' call, The throstle's whistled tune,And saw, a-down a winding lane,Flecked with the sun or gemmed with rain, The April's floral rune.
Would I could find it once again, That lane with blossoms gay;For me 'twould mark the backward trailTo that lost realm where shadows fail, The land of Yesterday.
Each time the spring comes o'er the hills I follow in her leadAnd seek again that dear, lost landWhere Love and I walked hand in hand And learned life's golden creed.
But down the barren, world-long leagues That meet my aching gazeNo song bird calls or blossom peers—The flotsam of the shriven years Drifts with the vanished days.