BEYOND the purple, hazy trees Of summer's utmost boundaries; Beyond the sands -- beyond the seas -- Beyond the range of eyes like these, And only in the reach of the Enraptured gaze of Memory, There lies a land, long lost to me, -- The land of Used-to-be! A land enchanted -- such as swung In golden seas when sirens clung Along their dripping brinks, and sung To Jason in that mystic tongue That dazed men with its melody -- O such a land, with such a sea Kissing its shores eternally, Is the fair Used-to-be. A land where music ever girds The air with belts of singing-birds, And sows all sounds with such sweet words, That even in the low of herds A meaning lives so sweet to me, Lost laughter ripples limpidly From lips brimmed over with the glee Of rare old Used-to-be. Lost laughter, and the whistled tunes Of boyhood's mouth of crescent runes, That rounded, through long afternoons, To serenading plenilunes -- When starlight fell so mistily That, peering up from bended knee, I dreamed 'twas bridal drapery Snowed over Used-to-be. O land of love and dreamy thoughts, And shining fields, and shady spots Of coolest, greenest grassy plots, Embossed with wild forget-me-nots! -- And all ye blooms that longingly Lift your fair faces up to me Out of the past, I kiss in ye The lips of Used-to-be. |