E’er Do I Dwell by Michael Dreher
E’er do I dwell ‘neath yawning sun
When young we were, to antic run
A frolic through the scratching grass
And barley sway in our trespass,
To lie frames lithe aside the lake
That glinted churn’d by thrashing drake,
Where dripp’d and darted dragonflies
The rippl’d glass to scrutinise
Refracted flutt’ring Admiral
Aside the lucent bursts of wool
That ache the bough of old-man’s-beard.
These moments now are disappeared
As in our paths did yearning tides
To sep’rate dest’nies cleave our strides.
But e’er, beneath the willow bower
That drips to banks some solemn hour,
Do you think of those free days
When, by the stream with hearts ablaze,
We loved, and lived as lovers do
Beneath the endless welkin blue?
In the dawnburst flutt’ring streams
Of slate-grey half-awaking dreams,
Does my face to mem’ry tumble
As some distant joyous rumble?
Do you e’er with morning dew
Think of me as I oft do you?
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