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A REVERIE
Just a dainty silver clasp, Wrought in Spanish filigree, Lying shyly in my grasp, Thrills my blood with ecstasy; Just a circlet, perfume laden, Made of softest silken woof, And my mind's eye sees a maiden 'Mid the smoke wreaths stand aloof. As my eyes grow dim with dreaming, And I yield me to her spell ; O'er my mind with fancies teeming Rules this maid intangible. Hand in hand o'er golden meadows, Through wide groves of whispering trees, Where sweet songsters wake the echoes And soft fountains cool the breeze, So we wander nothing heeding In that mild enchanted clime, Where the cares of life, receding, Leave no thought of earthly time. Pity life is not all dreaming, Fancy's songs e'er being sung, In the enchanted land of seeming! We remain forever young. But old age's ruthless finger Draws time's scars across our face; Youthful gleams no longer linger As the years come on apace.
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With such trifles for a starter, Strange what fancies we beget; Just a maiden's dainty garter And a Turkish cigarette.
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