Past
A. Galsworthy
The clocks are chiming in my heart
Their cobweb chime;
Old murmurings of days that die,
The sob of things a-drifting by.
The clocks are chiming in my heart!
The stars have twinkled, and gone out —
Fair candles blown!
The hot desires burn low, and wan
Those ashy fires, that flamed anon.
The stars have twinkled, and gone out!
Old journeys travel in my head!
They come and go —
Forgotten smiles of stranger friends,
Sweet, weary miles, and sweeter ends.
Old journeys travel in my head!
The leaves are dropping from my tree!
Dead leaves and brown.
The vine-leaf ghosts make pale my brow;
For ever frosts and winter now.
The leaves are dropping from my tree!