Part 1 — AFTER R. H. STODDARD

SIDE by side in the crowded streets, Amid its ebb and flow, We walked together one autumn morn; ('Twas many years ago!) The markets blushed with fruits and flowers; (Both Memory and Hope!) You stopped and bought me at the stall, A spicy cantelope. We drained together its honeyed wine, We cast the seeds away; I slipped and fell on the moony rinds, And you took me home on a dray! The honeyed wine of your love is drained; I limp from the fall I had; The snow-flakes muffle the empty stall, And everything is sad. The sky is an inkstand, upside down, It splashes the world with gloom; The earth is full of skeleton bones, And the sea is a wobbling tomb! Bayard Taylor.