THE NAME ON THE TREE

I saw a name carved on a tree—"Julia"; A simpler name there could not be—Julia: But seeing it I seemed to see A Devon garden,—pleasantly About a parsonage,—the bee Made drowsy-sweet; where rosemary And pink and phlox and peony Bowed down to one Whom Herrick made to bloom in Poetry. A moment there I saw her stand,—Julia; A gillyflower in her hand,—Julia: And then, kind-faced and big and bland, As raised by some magician's wand, Herrick himself passed by, sun-tanned, And smiling; and the quiet land Seemed to take on and understand A dream long dreamed, And for the lives of two some gladness planned. And then I seemed to hear a sigh,—"Julia!" And someone softly walking nigh,—Julia: The leaves shook; and a butterfly Trailed past; and through the sleepy sky A bird flew, crying strange its cry— Then suddenly before my eye Two lovers strolled—They knew not why I looked amazed,— But I had seen old ghosts of long dead loves go by.