A PHANTASY.
Reading edition
WRITTEN FOR THE INTERNATIONAL MAGAZINE
BY R. H. STODDARD.
"Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean."
The light of the summer noon Bursts in a flood through the blind; But few are the rays of joy That shine in my darkened mind. My heart is stirred to a storm, And its passions intense and proud Feed on themselves, like fires Pent in a thunder-cloud! I think of the days of youth, And the fountains of love defiled, Till I hide my face in my hands, And weep like a little child!