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THOSE WITH ME 125
To lissome hands and soft lips enthralling,
To smiles now stained by the teardrops falling.
Till the view from my vision dies,
To it backward I send my eyes;
All that was becomes new and near,
The forgotten grows warm and dear;
Mem’ries wander,
While this I ponder,
And from the springtime all love’s sweet dreaming
Forward and back in my soul is streaming.
Joyous that time and joyous now,
Sorrow that time and sorrow now.
Sun on meadows bedewed appears,
Soul in mem’ries of smiles and tears.
When they waking
Their bounds are breaking,
When streams their ebbing with sinking power,
The soul bears poetry’s bud and flower.
THOSE WITH ME
As on I drive, in my heart joy dwells
Of Sabbath silence with sound of bells.
The sun lifts a// that is living, growing,
God’s love itself in its symbol showing.
To church pass people from near and far,
Soon psalms ascend from the door ajar.
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