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| Courtesy: http://www.freeimages.com/ |
. . . "Before me rose an avenue
Of tall and sombrous pines;
Abroad their fan-like branches grew,
And, where the sunshine darted through,
Spread a vapor soft and blue,
In Long and sloping lines.
And, falling on my weary brain,
Like a fast-falling shower,
The dreams of youth came back, again--
Low lispings of the summer rain,
Dropping on the ripened grain,
As once upon the flower.
Visions of childhood! Stay, oh, stay!
Ye were so sweet and wild!
And distant voices seemed to say,
"It cannot be! They pass away!
Other themes demand thy lay;
Thou art no more a child!
. . . "Athwart the swinging branches cast,
Soft rays of sunshine pour;
Then comes the fearful wintry blast;
Pallid lips say, 'It is past!
We can return no more!'
"Look, then, into thine heart, and write!
Yes, into Life's deep stream!
All forms of sorrow and delight,
All solemn Voices of the Night,
That can soothe thee, or affright--
Be these henceforth thy theme."
Keep on writing . . .
Thank you Lexa Cain for hosting this blog hop!
And co-hosts: L.G. Keltner @ Writing Off The Edge
and Katie @ TheCyborgMom
