Together

We played together, you and I,

     Where fields were green in May;

Where bobolink and merry thrush

Awoke the early morning hush,

     And called up out to play.

We played together, and the days,

     s one sweet dream flew past;

The whisp’ring fields or thrush’s strain

Told nothing of the morrow’s pain,

     That joys could aught but last.

We played together on the stage,

     Crude amateurs we;

We played the youthful lovers’ parts

With more than mimic in our hearts,

     At least ‘twere so with me.

And now upon the stage of life

     Together still we play;

Though real the joy and real the pain,

We would not court the mimic strain

     Of that far distant day.

May 3, ‘09