IN LOVERS’ LANE

I KNOW a place for loitering feet Deep in the valley where the breeze

Makes melody in lichened boughs, And murmurs low love-litanies.

There slender harebells nod and dream, And pale wild roses offer up

The fragrance of their golden hearts, As from some incense-brimméd cup.

It holds the sunshine sifted down Softly through many a beechen screen, Save where, by deeper woods embraced, Cool shadows linger, dim and green.

And there my love and I may walk And harken to the lapsing fall

Of un‘seen brooks and tender winds, And wooing birds that sweetly call.

And every voice to her will say What I repeat in dear refrain,

And eyes will meet with seeking eyes, And hands will clasp in Lovers’ Lane.

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