Reminiscence

We sang old love-songs on the way                 In sad and merry snatches,              Your fingers o'er the strings astray                 Strumming the random catches.              And ever, as the skiff plied on                 Among the trailing willows,              Trekking the darker deeps to shun                 The gleaming sandy shallows,              It seemed that we had, ages gone,                 In some far summer weather,              When this same faery moonlight shone,                 Sung these same songs together.              And every grassy cape we passed,                 And every reedy island,              Even the bank'd cloud in the west                 That loomed a sombre highland;              And you, with dewmist on your hair,                 Crowned with a wreath of lilies,              Laughing like Lalage the fair                 And tender-eyed like Phyllis:              I know not if 't were here at home,                 By some old wizard's orders,              Or long ago in Crete or Rome                 Or fair Provencal borders,              But now, as when a faint flame breaks                 From out its smouldering embers,              My heart stirs in its sleep, and wakes,                 And yet but half-remembers              That you and I some other time                 Moved through this dream of glory,              Like lovers in an ancient rhyme,                 A long-forgotten story.