ACROSS the pathway, myrtle-fringed, Under the maple, it was hinged -- The little wooden gate; 'T was there within the quiet gloam, When I had strolled with Nelly home, I used to pause and wait Before I said to her good-night, Yet loath to leave the winsome sprite Within the garden's pale; And there, the gate between us two, We'd linger as all lovers do, And lean upon the rail. And face to face, eyes close to eyes, Hands meeting hands in feigned surprise, After a stealthy quest, -- So close I'd bend, ere she'd retreat, That I'd grow drunken from the sweet Tuberose upon her breast. We'd talk -- in fitful style, I ween -- With many a meaning glance between The tender words and low; We'd whisper some dear, sweet conceit, Some idle gossip we'd repeat, And then I'd move to go. "Good-night," I'd say; "good-night -- goodbye!" "Good-night" -- from her with half a sigh -- "Good-night!" "Good-night!" And then -- And then I do not go, but stand, Again lean on the railing, and -- Begin it all again. Ah! that was many a day ago -- That pleasant summer-time -- although The gate is standing yet; A little cranky, it may be, A little weather-worn -- like me -- Who never can forget The happy -- "End"? My cynic friend, Pray save your sneers -- there was no "end." Watch yonder chubby thing! That is our youngest, hers and mine; See how he climbs, his legs to twine About the gate and swing. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GRINDSTONE by ROBERT FROST NOT ONE TO SPARE by ETHEL LYNN BEERS A FANCY FROM FONTENELLE by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON THEOLOGY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR SONNET: 2. FEBRUARY AFTERNOON by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS CARN A-TURNEN YOLLER by WILLIAM BARNES THE LAST MAN: RECOLLECTION OF EARLY LIFE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |