AN OLD REFRAIN

By Thomas Nelson Page

It seems to me as I think of her,

That my youth has come again:

I hear the breath of summer stir

The leaves in the old refrain:

“Oh! my Lady-love! Oh! my Lady-love!

Oh! where can my Lady be?

I will seek my Love, with the wings of a dove,

And pray her to love but me.”

The flower-kissed meadows all once more

Are green with grass and plume;

The apple-trees again are hoar

With fragrant snow of bloom.

Oh! my Lady-love! Oh! my Lady-love!

Oh! where can my Lady be? etc.

The meadow-brook slips tinkling by

With silvery, rippling flow,

And blue-birds sing on fences nigh,

To dandelions below.

Oh! my Lady-love, Oh, my Lady-love!

Oh! where can my Lady be? etc.

I hear again the drowsy croon

Of honey-laden bees,

And catch the poppy-mellowed rune

They hum to locust trees.

Oh! my Lady-love! Oh! my Lady-love!

Oh! where can my Lady-love be? etc.

Far off the home-returning cows

Low that the Eve is late,

And call their calves neath apple-boughs

To meet them at the gate.

Oh! my Lady-love! Oh! my Lady-love!

Oh! where can my Lady be? etc.

Once more the Knights and ladies pass

In visions Fancy-wove:

I lie full length in summer grass,

To choose my own True-Love.

Oh! my Lady-love! Oh! my Lady-love!

Oh! where can my Lady be? etc.

I know not how,— I know not where,—

I dream a fairy-spell:

I know she is surpassing fair,—

I know I love her well.

Oh! my Lady-love! Oh! my Lady-love!

Oh! where can my Lady be? etc.

I know she is as pure as snow:—

As true as God's own Truth:—

I know,— I know I love her so,

She must love me, in sooth!

Oh! my Lady-love! Oh! my Lady-love!

Oh! where can my Lady be? etc.

I know the stars dim to her eyes;

The flowers blow in her face:

I know the angels in the skies

Have given her of their grace.

Oh! my Lady-love! Oh! my Lady-love!

Oh! where can my Lady be? etc.

And none but I her heart can move,

Though seraphs may have striven;

And when I find my own True-love,

I know I shall find Heaven.

Oh! my Lady-love! Oh! my Lady-love!

Oh! where can my Lady be!

I will seek my Love with the wings of a dove

And pray her to love but me.