Chapter 63
Ah, dear! how memory stirs! Of meadows and soft-voiced thrushes, Of winds that sang amid furs, Or piped on the cool damp rushes, Of twilights and early dawns, And times when the earth is fairest, Of gardens with dewy lawns, And flowers when their scent is rarest, Of noontide and humming bees, That gather the love of roses,
Of night-time and sighing trees, And clouds where the moon reposes, And dearest, of just we too, Alone in this world of splendour, Where everything lived for you, In glorious sweet surrender. The recording is in the public domain.
