Here, as scholar, poet, sage,
    He filled many a pliant page
With the philosophic wisdom and refinement of his age,
    And his letters to his peers
    Through a life of smiles and tears
Make me often quite forgetful of the intervening years;

    For the beauty of the bay
    And the magical display
Of its coronet of mountains have not altered since his day,
    And the lake of which he wrote
    At that epoch so remote
With the same caressing murmur laps my undulating boat.

    Hence the subtle, tender spell
    Of the place he loved so well
Holds me captive and enchanted, as these waters gently swell,
    And a vague and nameless pain
    Makes me long for,—­though in vain—­,
That delightful classic era, which will never come again.

    Since the Goths’ invading tide
    Wrecked Rome’s potency and pride,
Something wonderful has vanished, something exquisite has died;
    And in spite of modern fame
    And the lustre of its name,
Even beautiful Lake Como can be never quite the same.

    So beside its sylvan shore,
    Where the wavelets evermore
Seem to rythmically murmur of the classic days of yore,
    Cease, O boatman, now to row! 
    For, while Alpine summits glow,
I would dream that I am floating on the lake of long ago.

PERSONALLY ADDRESSED

LINES

written for a Golden Wedding, 1883

Just fifty years ago to-night,
  When earth was mantled deep with snow,
The stars beheld with tender light
  The fairest scene this world can show.

Two graceful forms stood side by side,
  Two trembling hands were clasped as one,
Two hearts exchanged perpetual faith,
  And love’s sweet poem was begun.

For suns may rise and suns may set,
  And tides may ebb and tides may flow,
Love is man’s greatest blessing yet,
  And honest wedlock makes it so.

“Father” and “Mother",—­sweetest words
  That human lips can ever frame,
We gather here as children now
  To find your loving hearts the same.

Unchanged, unchangeable by time,
  Your love is boundless as the sea;
The same as when our childish griefs
  Were hushed beside our mother’s knee.

Years may have given us separate homes,
  Friends, children, happiness and fame,
But oh! to-night our greatest wealth
  Is that we call you still by name.

God bless you both! for fifty years
  You’ve journeyed onward side by side;
And still, for years to come, God grant
  Your paths may nevermore divide;

But, just as sunset’s golden glow
  Makes Alpine snows divinely fair,
So may the setting sun of life
  Rest lightly on your silvered hair!

Yes, suns may rise and suns may set,
  And tides may ebb and tides may flow,
We are your loving children yet,
  And time will ever prove us so.