REVERIE

O'er the long reach of water comes

The plash of dipping oar,

And faintly, borne upon the wind,

Far voices gain the shore.

I hear their low, faint murmur as

The boat glides on its way,

And with the glance of flashing oar

Fall silver drops of spray!

I lie with half-closed eyes and dream

Of days that long are fled;

While fancy brings unto my side

The forms of those now dead.

When life and love were as a song

From vibrant chords of youth!

When every heart that greeted me

Spoke but of trust and truth!

Thus half-adream I hold commune

With mine own heart, and ask

Were youth and joy the greater gain,

Or life's more finished task?

Quick comes the answer to my lips —

Quick to the question craved —

“The noblest deeds of life are those

In later years engraved

“On tablets of the living mind,

In characters full bold;

Not happiness, nor yet content,

Can here life's measure hold!

“Not to glide on in summer dreams,

Nor yet to love, is best;

But in thy noble strength to grow

And earn the longed-for rest!”

So not with envious eyes I watch

The boat whose living freight

Is youth and all youth's sunny dreams —

I, who have learned to wait!