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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