Chestnut-trees

Two linos along the avenue, A strip of omeral between, Ycar after year I've seen renew The beauty of their glossy green; I've seen the sunsets sloping gold Along their giant tree-trunkH laïd, Until they seeincd to Fancy bold Sorae temple's pillarcd colonnade, And in and out I have no doubt That sunbeams never shone like these - ■ Links of gold thread that touched my head Amongst the dear old chestn ut-trees. Down drooping to the mellow turf, The lower branches spread themselves In many and many a graceful curve - Meet shelter f rom a thousand elves; Whilflt upward in a pyramid The woven branches thickly grew. From Leaf to leaf the sunbeams slid, And not a ray raight venture througli, lïecause the roof was sunbeam-proof, A shady nook for dreamy case, Secure from blaze of hot noondays, The shadow of the chestn trees. And ofi tho blossoms, faintly flushed, Het on the outer ledge of green! I used to think they gently blushed. Half staamed at standing to be seen, Amongst them in their order set The happy birds winged in and out; Their httle stir, their light wings' fret, Was all the Bound of lifeabout, TheÖumraer fair had everywhero Lulled into rest the slightest breezo; No sound came in of worldly din To vex me 'neath the chestnnt-trees. Oh flush of life grown wan and pale, And weary feet, in wintry days Wand'ring alone and nigh to fall Adown the city's crowded ways! 1 dream! Tne sunbeams on the grasa, The glowing pyramids of bloom, The birds1 chirp as they fleetly pass Throngh the thick leaf roof's tender gloom, That only stir of light wings' whirr. My mem'ry from the past retrieves Of all that's gone, been said or done, Yeara since beneath the chestnut-trees. Life's done with fiow'rs; around me now The busy turmoil sweeps and awims; In sweat of bram and sweat of brow Life slow to its foregone end wins. And far off in the happy West The chestn ut-trees stand leafeless, bare. Sharp shadows on the turf do rest, But mine will never darken there! 0 hurry, strife, of work-day Life, And heart grown cold and hard with these, Would it be best give up to rest - Go back amongst the chestnut-trees. Ah, no! It was not leaves and bloom Alono4hat fadedat the prime - Not only Runshine and perfume That altered at the touch of Time - Not only birds that sang most sweet Amongst the trees to one dear atrain, Or flow'rs that sprang beneath our feet, That never can come back again; The hearts we had, the young hearts glad, That Time could chili and öorrow freeze - 'Tis they are lost - they have changed most Of all beneath the chestnat-trees.