At The Bars

We used to meet at the bars.

She was a lass and I a lad,

And she was all the love I had;

And when the twilight stole apace

Shading the richness on her face,

We met, where ceased the winding lane,

To talk our secrets o’er again,

     At the bars.

We used to meet at the bars.

The cows were always waiting there;

Her cows and mine, – each drove a pair;

And if we lingered past the hour,

Held by the spell of love’s sweet power,

They’d softly “moo”, and turn their eyes

Upon us there in mute surprise,

     At the bars.

Those hours we passed at the bars!

The years went on, – I went away,

And saw her not for many a day.

Still loving, repenting, full of doubt,

I turned me home to seek her out;

And when the twilight stole apace

I saw the welcome on her face,

     At the bars!

July 8, ‘95