ENVOY.

Just as of old! The world rolls on and on;

The day dies into night--night into dawn--

Dawn into dusk--through centuries untold.--

Just as of old.

Time loiters not. The river ever flows,

Its brink or white with blossoms or with snows;

Its tide or warm with Spring or Winter cold:

Just as of old.

Lo! where is the beginning, where the end

Of living, loving, longing? Listen, friend!--

God answers with a silence of pure gold--

Just as of old.

Green Fields and Running Brooks, and Other Poems · 第 151 / 151 题