A Reminiscence

If I might save from out the wreck of years

Some loveliest moment to eternalise,

I would not seek it where the fervid eyes

Of passion long ago were dulled with tears.

Nay, liefer I would look where nature nears

The cloudy confines of her mysteries,

Where Sleep prepares his balmy ministries,

And almost so his brother Death endears.

Yes, I would lie and drowse as in my bed—

A four-years' child—with, through the open door,

The nurses' voices, merry in my stead,

And sounds of music wafted through the floor;

Such idling best contents my wearihead

To-night; to-morrow I may ask for more.