[Illustration:  “THE OLD DELIGHT THAT WE CAST AWAY”]

     UPON THE SAND.

     All love that has not friendship for its base
       Is like a mansion built upon the sand. 
       Though brave its walls as any in the land,
     And its tall turrets lift their heads in grace;
     Though skilful and accomplished artists trace
       Most beautiful designs on every hand,
       And gleaming statues in dim niches stand,
     And fountains play in some flow’r-hidden place: 

     Yet, when from the frowning east a sudden gust
       Of adverse fate is blown, or sad rains fall,
       Day in, day out, against its yielding wall,
     Lo! the fair structure crumbles to the dust. 
       Love, to endure life’s sorrow and earth’s woe,
       Needs friendship’s solid mason-work below.

     REUNITED.

     Let us begin, dear love, where we left off;
       Tie up the broken threads of that old dream,
       And go on happy as before, and seem
     Lovers again, though all the world may scoff.

     Let us forget the graves which lie between
       Our parting and our meeting, and the tears
       That rusted out the gold-work of the years,
     The frosts that fell upon our gardens green.

     Let us forget the cold, malicious Fate
       Who made our loving hearts her idle toys,
       And once more revel in the old sweet joys
     Of happy love.  Nay, it is not too late!

     Forget the deep-ploughed furrows in my brow;
       Forget the silver gleaming in my hair;
       Look only in my eyes!  Oh! darling, there
     The old love shone no warmer then than now.

     Down in the tender deeps of thy dear eyes
       I find the lost sweet memory of my youth,
       Bright with the holy radiance of thy truth,
     And hallowed with the blue of summer skies.

     Tie up the broken threads and let us go,
       Like reunited lovers, hand in hand,
       Back, and yet onward, to the sunny land
     Of our To Be, which was our Long Ago.

     WHAT SHALL WE DO?

     Here now forevermore our lives must part. 
       My path leads there, and yours another way. 
     What shall we do with this fond love, dear heart? 
       It grows a heavier burden day by day.

     Hide it?  In all earth’s caverns, void and vast,
       There is not room enough to hide it, dear;
     Not even the mighty storehouse of the past
       Could cover it from our own eyes, I fear.

     Drown it?  Why, were the contents of each ocean
       Merged into one great sea, too shallow then
     Would be its waters to sink this emotion
       So deep it could not rise to life again.

     Burn it?  In all the furnace flames below,
       It would not in a thousand years expire. 
     Nay! it would thrive, exult, expand, and grow,
       For from its very birth it fed on fire.