A JOG-TROT PAIR
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HO were the twain that trod this trackSo many times togetherHither and back,In spells of certain and uncertain weather? Commonplace in conduct theyWho wandered to and fro hereDay by day:Two that few dwellers troubled themselves to know here. The very gravel-path was primThat daily they would follow:Borders trim:Never a wayward sprout, or hump, or hollow. Trite usages in tamest styleHad tended to their plighting.“It’s just worth while,Perhaps,” they had said. “And saves much sad good-nighting.” And petty seemed the happeningsThat ministered to their joyance:Simple things,Onerous to satiate souls, increased their buoyance. Who could those common people be,Of days the plainest, barest?They were we;Yes; happier than the cleverest, smartest, rarest. “THE CURTAINS NOW ARE DRAWN”(SONG) I THE curtains now are drawn,And the spindrift strikes the glass,Blown up the jagged passBy the surly salt sou’-west,And the sneering glare is goneBehind the yonder crest,While she sings to me:“O the dream that thou art my Love, be it thine,And the dream that I am thy Love, be it mine,And death may come, but loving is divine.”
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