Rice, Hon. Stephen E. Spring: THE HEART KNOWETH ITS OWN BITTERNESS.

[ZaunköniG]

THE HEART KNOWETH ITS OWN BITTERNESS.

WE sat together underneath a lime,
Whose netted branches wove an emerald night;
And in short sentences in low and light
Whispers recalled the stories of old time ;
Until some word, I know not what, some rhyme
Dragged out a hidden grief, that lived in spite
Of creeping lichen years such years as might
Well humble all that once was thought sublime.
My grief it was, and will be : she but sees
A strangeness which she cannot understand ;
A nameless tower overgrown with trees ;
A heap of stones encumbering the land ;
A hearth now haunted by the wintry breeze,
Long, long ago, by love and fancy fanned.