  Alone they walked—their fingers knit together, And swaying listlessly as might a swing Wherein Dan Cupid dangled in the weather Of some sun-flooded afternoon of Spring. Within the clover-fields the tickled cricket Laughed lightly as they loitered down the lane, And from the covert of the hazel-thicket The squirrel peeped and laughed at them again. The bumble-bee that tipped the lily-vases Along the road-side in the shadows dim, Went following the blossoms of their faces As though their sweets must needs be shared with him Between the pasture bars the wondering cattle Stared wistfully, and from their mellow bells Shook out a welcoming whose dreamy rattle Fell swooningly away in faint farewells. And though at last the gloom of night fell o'er them And folded all the landscape from their eyes, They only knew the dusky path before them Was leading safely on to Paradise. |
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