TRUE LOVE AND NEW LOVE.

OVER the meadow and down the lane

To the gate by the twisted thorn:

Your feet should know each turn of the way

You trod so many many a day,

Before the old love was put out of its pain,

Before the new love was born.

Kiss her, hold her and fold her close,

Tell her the old true tale:

You ought to know each turn of the phrase,—

You learned them all in the poor old days

Before the birth of the new red rose,

Before the old rose grew pale.

And do not fear I shall creep to-night

To make a third at your tryst:

My ghost, if it walked, would only wait

To scare the others away from the gate

Where you teach your new love the old delight,

With the lips that your old love kissed.