At the River-Crossing

Oh! the quiet river-crossing
  Where we twain were wont to ride,
Where the wanton winds were to sing
  Willow branches o'er the tide.

There the golden noon would find us
  Dallying through the summer day,
All the waery world behind us -
  All it's tumult far away.

Oh! thoe rides across the crossing
  Where the shallow stream runs wide,
When the sunset's beams were glossing
  Strips of sand on either side.

We would cross the sparkling river
  On the brown horse and the bay;
Watch the willows sway and shiver
  And their trembling shadows play.

When the opal tints waxed duller
  And a gray crept o'er the skies
Yet there stayed the blue sky's color
  In your dreamy dark-blue eyes.

How the sun-god's bright caresses,
  When we rode at sunet there,
Plaited among your braided tresses,
  Gleaming on your silky hair.

When the last sunlight's glory
  Faded off the sandy bars,
There we learnt the old, old story,
  Riding homeward 'neat the stars.

'Tis a memory to be hoarded -
  Oh, the follish tale and fond!
Till another stream be forded -
  And we reach the Great Beyond.

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"At the River-Crossing" STANDS4 LLC, 2020. Web. 1 Apr. 2020. <>.

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