Classic Poem

INSCRIBED TO HENRY W. LONGFELLOW .

With thee, dear friend, though far away,
I walk, as on some vanished day,
And all the past returns in beautiful array.

With thee I still pace to and fro
Along the airy portico,
And gaze upon the flowers and river winding slow

And there, as in some fairy realm,
I hear the sweet birds overwhelm
The fainting air with music from the lofty elm.

And hear the winged winds, like bees,
Go swarming in the tufted trees,
Or dropping low away, o'erweighed with melodies.

We walk beneath the cedar's eaves,
Where statued Ceres, with her sheaves,
Stands sheltered in a bower of trailing vines and leaves

Or strolling by the garden fence,
Drinking delight with every sense,
We watch th' encamping sun throw up his golden tents.

With thee I wander as of old,
When fall the linden's leaves of gold,
Or when old winter whitely mantles all the wold.

As when the low salt marsh was mown,
With thee I idly saunter down
Between the long white village and the towered town.

I see the sultry bridge and long,
The river where the barges throng —
The bridge and river made immortal in thy song.

In dreams like these, of calm delight,
I live again the wintry night,
When all was dark without, but all within was bright —

When she, fit bride for such as thou,
She with the quiet, queenly brow,
Read from the minstrel's page with tuneful voice and low

Still in the crowd or quiet nook,
I hear thy tone — behold thy look —
Thou speakest with thine eyes as from a poet's book.

I listen to thy cheering word,
And sadness, like the affrighted bird,
Flies fast, and flies afar, until it is unheard.