Middle-aged Enthusiasms

We passed where flag and flower

  Signalled a jocund throng;

  We said: "Go to, the hour

  Is apt!" - and joined the song;

And, kindling, laughed at life and care,

Although we knew no laugh lay there.

  We walked where shy birds stood

  Watching us, wonder-dumb;

  Their friendship met our mood;

  We cried: "We'll often come:

We'll come morn, noon, eve, everywhen!"

- We doubted we should come again.

  We joyed to see strange sheens

  Leap from quaint leaves in shade;

  A secret light of greens

  They'd for their pleasure made.

We said: "We'll set such sorts as these!"

- We knew with night the wish would cease.

  "So sweet the place," we said,

  "Its tacit tales so dear,

  Our thoughts, when breath has sped,

  Will meet and mingle here!" . . .

"Words!" mused we. "Passed the mortal door,

Our thoughts will reach this nook no more."

-o0o-