Only a fern leaf, darling,
Yellow and dry with age,
Only a date recorded
Down at the ending page.
Only a breath from the mountain,
A song with the summer wed;
Only the voice of a fountain,
Only a dream that is dead.
Only a faded morning,
With a shadow falling through,
Only a hint of warning--
A cloud in the far off blue.
Only a word of parting
Under a starlit sky;
Only a tear that is starting,
A long and a last good bye.
Only a face of sorrow
Turned to a vanished year--
Only a fern leaf, darling,
Glued to the pages here.
A Dream.