Classic Poem

L AST year we watched the robins build,
The mated robins glad and free:
To-day my eyes with tears are filled;
Once more the mated robins build,
But she is gone who watched with me.

Last year we walked and gathered flowers
Together, blossoms wan and wee,
Arbutus blooms; but now the hours
May pass, — ungathered grow the flowers,
For she is gone who walked with me.

O grave, sweet face, with eyes of brown
That wistful still do turn to me,
I cannot bid your image down!
Go where I will, your eyes of brown
Still follow, and still yearn to me.

Sometimes her favorite air I play,
And wonder, as I wake the strings,
If spirits passed from earth away
Are touched by earthly things.

Then I recall her words that fell
One night, " That lovely melody
You never play one half so well
For others as for me. "

I never play it now, dear heart,
Without a throb half joy, half pain, —
As if you, somehow, stood apart
And listened to the strain.

I know how ravishing must be
Heaven's music in your happy ears,
Yet something whispers low to me,
" Play on: she hears! she hears! "

Then how the sweet notes throb and swell
Beneath my touch! Dear heart, 't is true:
I never play one half so well
For others as for you!