TWO children, down by the shining strand,
With eyes as blue as the summer sea,
While the sinking sun fills all the land
With the glow of a golden mystery;
Laughing aloud at the sea-mew’s cry,
Gazing with joy on its snowy breast,
Till the first star looks from the evening sky,
And the amber bars stretch over the west.
A soft green dell by the breezy shore,
A sailor lad and a maiden fair,
Hand clasped in hand, while the tale of yore
Is borne again on the listening air;
For love is young though love be old,
And love alone the heart can fill;
And the dear old tale that has been told
In the days gone by is spoken still.
A trim built home on a sheltered bay;
A wife looking out on a glistening sea;
A prayer for the loved one far away,
And prattling things ‘neath the old roof-tree;
A lifted latch and a radiant face
By the open door in the falling night;
A welcome home and a warm embrace
From the love of his youth and his children bright.
An aged man in an old arm chair;
A golden light from the western sky,
His wife by his side with her silvered hair,
And the open Book of God close by;
Sweet on the bay the gloaming falls,
And bright is the glow of the evening star;
But dearer to them are the jasper walls
And the golden streets of the Land afar.
An old churchyard on the green hillside,
Two lying still in their peaceful rest;
The fishermen’s boats going out with the tide
In the fiery glow of the amber west;
Children’s laughter and old men’s sighs,
The night that follows the morning clear,
A rainbow bridging our darkened skies,
Are the round of our lives from year to year.
―Selected.