THE NAME ON THE TREE

I saw a name carved on a tree — “Julia”;

A simpler name there could not be — Julia:

But seeing it I seemed to see

A Devon garden,— pleasantly

About a parsonage,— the bee

Made drowsy-sweet; where rosemary

And pink and phlox and peony

Bowed down to one

Whom Herrick made to bloom in Poetry.

A moment there I saw her stand,— Julia;

A gillyflower in her hand,— Julia:

And then, kind-faced and big and bland,

As raised by some magician's wand,

Herrick himself passed by, sun-tanned,

And smiling; and the quiet land

Seemed to take on and understand

A dream long dreamed,

And for the lives of two some gladness planned.

And then I seemed to hear a sigh,— “Julia!”

And someone softly walking nigh,— Julia:

The leaves shook; and a butterfly

Trailed past; and through the sleepy sky

A bird flew, crying strange its cry —

Then suddenly before my eye

Two lovers strolled — They knew not why

I looked amazed,—

But I had seen old ghosts of long dead loves go by.