Classic Poem

Yellowed leaves and a dusty cover—
Dim and gray with the dust of years.
It was the gift of a long-lost lover—
A gift of love and a gift of tears.

A withered rose and a leaf of clover
From the beautiful gardens far away.
Is the dream of love so quickly over?
What does the heart of the woman say?

She hears the bells of the May-time ringing:
She sees the May with its blooms depart.
These were songs of her lover's singing,
But the dust is over the lover's heart.

Her first sweet love! … He is calling—calling
Back to the beautiful, vanished past;
Tears on the time-worn pages falling.
The woman weeps o'er the dream at last!

And was there never on earth another—
—A dearer love than the olden one?
Kissing her lips, a child cries, “Mother!”
The book is closed, and the dream is done!